Mustang's Wonderful Life
by Rivergoddess16
Summary: Based on 'It's a Wonderful Life', Roy Mustang wishes he'd never been born and soon finds himself in a Royless world. At first things seem the same, but Roy has underestimated his effect on the lives of others...Some Royai later, animeworld, T for safty.
1. Christmas at Central

_Disclaimer: To nobody's surprise - I obviously don't own any Fullmetal Alchemist stuff. I also stole the idea for this - it's from the movie "It's a Wonderful Life". __I have a couple new characters that I made up - but they're only extras - nothing huge._

**_Author's notes:_ Hey! Ummmm...What was I going to say? Well...This story is sorta random - and a bit more upbeat and funny in places then I had planned - it's sad and emotional too at times...at least I hope it is...Also...I donno if this idea has been done a lot before - sorry if it has! I'm honestly not trying to copy people or anything!**

**I'd love it if you'd review, but you don't have to...If you do review though, and you start bashing my story - would you atleast tell me why? Please? You're already writing that you don't like it - so you could at least explain a bit...**

**One more thing: I'm human. (Surprise, surprise) Not Vulcan, or Klingon, or Time Lord. So I make mistakes sometimes...I'm not the best proof-reader in the world - so please forgive me if I have a couple grammar errors. At least I'm trying!**

Snow fell in deep drifts around central. Carolers sang Christmas songs at street corners and weaths hung on doors.

Roy Mustang struggled through the snow banks, cursing under his breath about the weather. In his rush to get to the warmth of his office he took the stairs two at a time; slipping and falling half way up.

"Sir!" A blond haired man with a cigarette dangling from his mouth came rushing up to the colonel and bent to help him up.

"Second lieutenant Havoc." Mustang batted away him and stood brushing the snow off his coat. "I told you to ice these steps weeks ago! Why on earth didn't you?!"

"Yes sir. And if you'll recall; it was the middle of July when you gave the order." Havoc said quickly.

"That was my plan to make sure you had it done by March you fool. Do you think I got to be a colonel by putting off working?" Mustang didn't bother waiting for Havoc's answer. Instead he pulled open the door to central and escaped into its warm hallways.

"Merry Christmas, sir." Riza Hawkeye greeted Mustang softly as he entered his office.

"Hello Lieutenant." He muttered.

"What's wrong sir?"

Mustang slumped into his chair and began digging through paper work, after several minutes he looked up. "It's this time of year. It's freezing out-side – shops are crowed. And people won't stop singing."

"Some people like it that way sir."

"Well I don't, it's annoying." Mustang bent down and began furiously scribbling on the documents before him.

"You have plans for tonight sir?"

"Why do you ask?" He didn't look up from his work, but continued on, his pen making scratching sounds.

"It's Christmas eve."

"I was planning on working. Now why are you giving me the third degree lieutenant?"

"Only making conversation, sir" Hawkeye said softly. She stood silently by the sparklingly clean windows for a moment, watching the snow fall.

Mustang continued to work, but he couldn't seem to focus. His eyes caught the glint of the brass fram that held the Hughes family picture. Gracia smiled fondly, holding Elicia in one arm, the other rested on her husband's shoulder – as if nothing were wrong. As if Maes had never died…Roy looked down quickly, but he could feel the eyes in the photograph staring at him, watching his every move without ever once blinking. The picture had never bothered him before, on the contrary – Roy had felt it was something like a good luck charm – but now…

"There's no such thing as luck." Roy muttered under his breath in a voice barely audible. "If there was luck then you wouldn't be dead." He placed the picture in his desk drawer – slamming it with more force then was necessary. _It's my fault. _He thought bitterly. _If it hadn't been for me – _He stopped to picture what things would be like if Maes wasn't dead. Mustang could see it all so clearly in his minds eye. Elicia would be dressed all in red velvet and green ribbons – the poster child of what every toddler should be. And Gracia; she'd be sitting by the fire on her husband's lap, probably feeding him cookies. 'She was so devoted…' Mustang thought with a pang. All she wanted was a quite life for her family – and he'd taken it away from her. Maes was trying to help him when he died. And it was all Roy Mustang's fault.

He coughed loudly to stifle the cry of pain that grew in his throat. _Not in front of Riza. Good lord, anybody else but her. _He thought, brushing at his eye which was beginning to grow wet.

"I miss him too sir." Hawkeye said quietly from her corner by the window.

_She knew. How did she always know?!_ Mustang pretended to be confused. "Miss who?" He asked in what he hoped was an unconcerned voice.

"Hughes, sir."

Mustang bit his lip and bent over his desk.

Riza ignored the awkward silence that followed. "Perhaps you could go see him." She suggested after a minute.

"I've got all this paper work…" Mustang began, searching for some excuse. He didn't think he could face Hughes. Already the guilt was weighing him down more then ever, like lead inside him, a heavy nagging poison, slowly killing him from the inside…

"It's Christmas sir." Hawkeye looked out at the bright lights glowing down the tiny street – Even in the dim evening light they shone brightly. "I think he could use some company…"

Mustang sat very still for a second. He knew it was no good to resist. She'd have her way in the end. -Hawkeye always did. At last he stood and crossed to the coat stand where his heavy black coat hung, damp from the melted snow. A large muddy puddle lay beneath it and Mustang nearly slipped in it. Cursing, he steadied himself and threw the coat over himself, then looked across at Riza.  
"See you in a bit." He muttered awkwardly.

"Yes colonel." She sighed. "Tell him I said hello."

Mustang didn't answer, but let the door slam shut behind him, leaving Riza Hawkeye alone in the empty office.


	2. At the Graveyard

_**Author's notes: Sorry, this part sounds a bit forced and broken - I had writer's block and was having trouble getting it down on paper…It loosens up a bit towards the of this chapter.**_

_**And my next chapters after this one are reaaaaaaaally random (I've prewritten most this story, so I'll be updating pretty often). I don't know what got into me. So enjoy the saneness while it lasts – cuz it's almost over…**_

The walk from central to the graveyard was painfully slow. Mustang kept sinking into the snow on the un-shoveled side walks. By the time he reached Hughes's grave he was soaked from head to toe and shivering violently.

He looked down at the small headstone, a lonely little piece of rock in a sea of gray granite, all lined perfectly up. Someone had left a bouquet of poinsettias, and they wilted sadly in the cold, snow weighing down their bright red petals.

Mustang remembered with a jolt that he hadn't brought anything. He began franticly searching his pockets for something, then his finger tips touched the cold metal of his pocket watch. Mustang almost had to laugh; he was an alchemist – he could transmute something.

Groaning at the creak in his back, Mustang bent. He traced a large transmutation circle in the snow, then clapped his hands and thrust them down, pressing them into the snow, his thin gloves failing to keep out the damp cold. There was a brilliant blue light and two shinning ice sculptures grew from the snow.

The gleaming crystal-like forms of Gracia and Elicia looked down at the grave of Maes Hughes, sparkling in the fading sunlight. Now Hughes wouldn't have to spend Christmas alone. He'd have some company, even if it was as cold and stiff as he was…

"I'm sorry Maes." Mustang breathed. "It's all my fault. How can you possibly forgive me when I can't even forgive myself?" He collapsed into the snow, surrendering himself to the cold.

"I've killed innocent people – I've killed my best friend. I don't deserve to live." Mustang choked on the words, fighting back tears. "Things would be better off if I hadn't been born."

The snow fell harder then ever. He watched each flake as it tumbled down, light and care free. Drifts piled up quickly around him, and the cold was seeping even deeper yet into him.

"I want to sleep." He murmured, shifting slightly and settling him self down. "I want to forget."

Mustang closed his eyes, snow flakes sticking to his eye lashes and melting, mingling with the tears on his cheeks.

He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes – the sky had changed from dusty gray to inky black. The snow had stopped and the stars glittered like million diamonds. Mustang sat up and rubbed his eyes. His hands felt nub and his fingers were stiff.

"Damn." He cursed under his breath. He stood, brushing away the snow that had covered him while he slept. He began trudging back to central, fighting his way through the drifts, which was twice as high as when he'd come. Mustang didn't look back at the spot where Hughes lay, but continued on. Had he though – he would have noticed that the two ice sculptures had disappeared…

When Roy reached the doors to central he was soaked from head to toe and his cursing had grown steadily more vile.

" – never enough heat, I have to freeze my -" He flung open his office door, half way through a rant about the building's temperature regulation. He tossed his coat down on the floor, not even bothering to hang it up on the stand three feet away.

"Havoc mopped up for a change." He muttered, seeing the spotless floor beneath the coat stand. "He waits 'til I'm gone, nearly broke my neck before. Lieutenant – Bring me some coff-" Mustang looked up mid order to see that the room he was standing in was completely empty, not only was Hawkeye missing from her usual place by the window – but his desk was gone as well. Instead heavy gray filing cabinets had been shoved together in a clumsy row along the back wall, and molding office chairs were stacked atop each other.

"What the –"Mustang surveyed the scene in confusion. "Fullmetal." He chuckled to himself at last. Of course – this was all Major Elric's idea of a joke, he had just assumed the young alchemist had better things to do on Christmas then prank a colonel. That kid really needed a life.

"Okay Edward – you can come out now." Mustang called out loudly. "I know you're hiding in that filing cabinet – you're the only one small enough to fit in there." He waited for the explosion. If Ed were within fifty feet of him he'd be freaking out any second. There was silence. Maybe the kid wasn't in on it after all – still – there were a few jokers around central. Havoc and Furry were probably behind it…

He opened the door and stuck his head out into the empty hall way. "Hey you losers - You can come out - I found my office. Now it's my turn to have fun. I'm going to enjoy watching you put it all back." He waited for somebody to jump out and yell Merry Christmas. Nobody did.

From the end of the hall came the sound of foot steps. Roy strained to hear as they grew closer.


	3. Life is but a Dream

**Author's notes: Omigosh. I just realized that I made the stupidiest mistake ever!! I labled this as 'parody', only I just found out what a parody really is - and this isn't one. So I changed it...But I feel like in idiot anyway...I'm REALLY sorry for misleading you guys, and I hope you aren't to disapointed...But hoefuly you've all realized by now that this isn't a parody...Again - I am soooooooooooooo sorry! Anywho - moving on - Thanks a ton for all your reviews! They really mean a lot and I love reading them all!**

Armstrong was striding down the hall, humming carols to himself.

"Major - Thank god!" Mustang ran out to intercept the man in his path for the door.

"Who are you?" Armstrong asked suspiciously, towering over the colonel.

"I appreciate the gesture Armstrong – but you can stop kidding around now. I need my desk back, all my paper work was –"

"How do you know my ancient and noble family name?!" Armstrong ripped off his coat and uniform top to revile his bulging muscles. "I warn you to be very careful. One false move and I shall be forced to defend myself using the secret techniques passed down – "

"-Through generations of the Armstrong line." Mustang finished for him. "I know major – you've told me before."

The giant man slumped slightly. "How did you know?"

"I've heard you say that a hundred times. We're friends, we work together. I see you everyday." Mustang groaned. This joke was beginning to get out of hand.

"Are you insulting the Armstrong memory?! I have never seen you before in my life – and certainly not every day!"

Something was wrong. Mustang could feel it. Armstrong wouldn't carry a joke this far. Roy looked up into the man's face. "You're positive. You don't know me? Are you sure?" He asked seriously.

The man bent down and looked him in the eye.

"Yes. I'm sure." He said finally. "Is something wrong? You're dressed in the state's uniform – do you work here?"

"Of course. I'm a –"Mustang stopped. What was the good of explaining? As crazy as it seemed - The major obviously didn't know him. "I…uh...I'm on transfer here from…the west." Roy invented wildly. He had to find some cover up story until he could figure out what was going on.

Armstrong stood and put his coat back on. "Welcome to central then…?"

"Mustang. Colo- I mean Roy. Just Roy Mustang." He offered his hand.

Armstrong took it." You still haven't explained how you know my name."

"Oh…It was in my official orders. They said to report to a tall blond man…with muscles." Mustang explained, hoping that what he was saying sounded believable.

"Well – nobody told me you'd be coming, but I expect that was just a gap in communications." Armstrong laughed good-naturedly. "We'll get you settled in after Christmas break."

Mustang's head was spinning. Armstrong didn't know him. His office was a mess. What was going on!? He closed his eye and suddenly he could see himself laying in the show by Hughes's grave. '_I wish I'd never been born_' But it couldn't be. It went against the laws of science. He had to check though… "I'd like to start my work now if it'd be okay with you major. I've got a lot to do..."

Armstrong looked puzzled. "What did you say your work was?"

"Oh…I'm here to…Check records. There was a mix up back West - and my job is to make sure everything gets straightened out again." Mustang explained. If Armstrong bought it then it'd be easy to check the enlistment records – if his name wasn't there, then…

"Sure. But it's Christmas…" Armstrong walked slowly to the door. "I need to get home, my family is expecting me. For generations and, and generations the Armstrongs have gathered around a large fur tree on Christmas Eve to sing and open presents!" He looked down at Roy, who must have appeared quite lonely. "You're welcome to come – The Armstorngs have always been known for their hospitality!"

"No…I'll stay. I've got my work." Mustang muttered. He turned to for the records department. "I'll see you later, major…"

Armstrong shrugged. "Merry Christmas anyway." He turned out the door and Mustang set off for the for the records department.

"It's crazy." He mumbled to himself. "_I_ must be crazy."

Fifteen minutes later he sat in a hard backed chair in the empty record hall, a heavy book propped open on a desk before him. He ran his finger down the list of names, reading them softly to himself.

"- Munsun, Mustered, Nallis…" He stopped. That was it - No Mustang. "Damn!" He bent over to read the names again, something was wrong. How could his name not be there? He closed his eyes and leaned back to think it over.

"I'm dreaming." He said at last. "I fell asleep in the grave yard and this is the result of laying in a snow bank in sub-zero weather." Mustang laughed, now that he had it figured out he could sit back and enjoy the ride – this sounded like it could get interesting…

"Hey! Is anybody in here?!" A voice called out. Havoc entered through the double doors and flicked a light switch Mustang had neglected to turn on.

"What are you doing here?" He asked when he saw Roy sitting at a small desk.

"Havoc!?" Mustang looked up to see the blond haired man come rushing over.

"Hey! How do you-" He frowned, then drew a gun from the holster on his hip. "Stand back!" He said shakily, aiming the weapon at Mustang. "You are obviously an imposter of some sorts - and I am ordered to shot first and ask questions - "

Roy rolled his eyes. At least somebody hadn't changed. "Havoc - put that gun down and stop goofing off - or it'll be three weeks K.P. duty for you - and don't think I'll forget about it later just because it's the holidays." He said, trying to sound normal.

Havoc snorted. "You don't have the authority to - "

"Yes I do." Mustang stood and snapped the book shut with a flourish. "I'm your soupier officer - now stop fooling around like a five year-old."

Havoc dropped the cigarette from his mouth. "You know the major too!? You've infiltrated our ranks - memorized the names of our officers - lord only knows what wicked deeds you have planned for us!"

"Calm down soldier." Mustang took the gun from the man's hand and checked it. Not even loaded - leave it to Havoc to bluff his way into a possible fight.

"What are you? Foreign inelegance? Private investigator? Extraterrestrial?!" Havoc asked franticly. "Look - I'll give you anything you want - just don't take my Grace! She's all I've got - and I don't even know how much longer our relationship can last!"

Roy frowned. "Grace? The girl who runs the flower stand?"

Havoc nodded. "I really think this is love! She's so pretty!" His eyes glazed over for a second and he seemed to forget what was going on around him. "I asked her out to dinner to night - but she said she had to stay home with her widowed mother - She's so devoted to that woman - she spends almost every week-end with her..."

"Look - Havoc..." Roy began. "I don't think she's been completely honest with you..."

"What?!" Havoc's eye's bulged and his jaw dropped. "But that can't be! Nobody could be more sweet and honest then my Grace!"

Mustang sighed and patted the young man on the back. "I think she's been seeing another man..."

"But how can you be sure?" Havoc looked like a kid who'd been told that Christmas had been canceled.

"It - uh" Roy knew for a fact that Grace had been cheating - as they'd spent the last three weekends together. "It all begins to add up..." He said at last. "Have you ever met her mother?"

"No...She's always been too frail to get out - and I've never been to Grace's house." Havoc was beginning to look suspicious. "Come to think of it - She _was_ talking to a tall man one time when I came to pick her up - and she told me he was just a costumer! Ha!" He smacked himself on the head. "I've been a fool! All this time - " And then the full effect sunk in, Havoc froze.

Mustang was almost sure he could hear the wheels turning in the man's head. "She doesn't love me." He said softly after a second. "All this time - " He sniffled pathetically. "I already wrote mother telling her all about Grace too..."

"The truth hurts Lieutenant." Mustang said awkwardly, trying to sound comforting, but too impatient to fully pull the effect off. "I'm sure there's a girl out there some where that's dispirit enough to date you."

Havoc looked up, not realizing that he'd just been insulted. "You - you think so?"

"Sure – In fact - I'll even teach you how to pick up women - with tips from an expert like me you can't lose." Mustang pulled him up and dragged him to the library's doors.

"Where are we going?" Havoc asked. "What if I don't want another girl - I still love Grace you know!"

"Shut up." Mustang ordered. "We're going to a bar - the waitresses there usually friendly if you have enough money."


	4. Edward Elric the AlmostAlchemist

**Author's notes: I may slow down a bit on my posting after this, as the story still lacks an ending and I really need to work on it...I do have a good climax wrtien, as my beta-tester Yoky already knows...But I'm having trouble drawing things to a close...the characters don't want to leave...and it's sorta sad cuz I no longer have control over them - they do all the talking and I all I do is move my fingers...So the credit for this story really goes to them...Haha...that makes me sound sorta crazy...**

Havoc didn't talk on the way there, he shuffled his feet and Mustang had to drag him by the arm. "For a dream this sure is real..." He muttered to himself, noting the nagging cold at his finger tips and the crunch his boots made in the snow.

"Hey! Mister!" A short blond boy came trudging up to him, followed by a huge silver suit of armor.

"Elric?" Mustang hardly recognized the youth - who wasn't wearing his trademark red coat. "You shouldn't be out here kid - the weather man says we're getting three more feet of snow - and you aren't tall enough to walk through it." Mustang chuckled, he couldn't resist.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLIN' A MICROSCOPIC SAWED OFF LITTLE RUNT?!?!?!" Ed bounced up and down and waved his fists.

"Brother?" The suit of armor shifted worriedly with a dull clank.

"Al! Can't you see I'm trying to work here?!" Ed turned to scold his brother.

"Sorry..."

"So," Ed turned back and clapped a hand on Mustang's back - he had to stand on tip toe to reach. "Have you heard the good news?"

"Good news?!" Mustang snorted. "Don't tell me you're preaching religion."

"And what's wrong with that?! Ed asked defensively. "I've seen the glorious light of divineness and I want to share its wonder with the world!"

"Well nothing's wrong with it - I just never expected you to do something like this- not even in my dream."

"That's the problem with you people!" Ed threw his hands in the air and Mustang caught a glimpse of steel between his right jacket cuff and glove. "You never take life seriously! If you don't start cleaning up your act today - it could have a huge effect on your heavenly rewards tomorrow!"

"I really can't stay Edward." Mustang gave Havoc a tug. "I've got lots to do..."

"Sure. Fine. Walk away from salvation - see if I care." Ed shrugged. "Merry Christmas you scrooge!" He turned to the suit of armor. "Come on Al – let's go fine somebody else to save."

"No brother. I'm not leaving until you give back what you took." The armor folded its arms and stood defiantly.

"What?! Al! Common! What are you talking about?!" Ed laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

"What the-" Mustang reached into his pocket for his pocket watch, but all that greeted his finger tips was empty space.

"Fullmetal – give me back my pocket watch this second – or I'll fry you to a cinder." Mustang glared down at the boy.

"Fullmetal?" Ed asked confusedly. "My name's Ed. I don't know how you knew that and I really don't care. All I care about at the moment is how Al screwed everything up!" He directed the last of his sentence at the suit of armor who now sat dejectedly in the snow.

"Stealing isn't right brother – I don't care what you say. Now apologize for lying and give it back."

"Al!" Ed lowered his voice to a frantic whisper "This guy is a state alchemist, and that pocket watch amplifies alchemic reactions!"

"Can't we take a break from being alchemists? Just for awhile. I only want to spend some time with you – I never get to see you anymore. You're always working on some – some stupid experiment!" Al jumped to his feet and started running away, disappearing into a dark ally.

"Al! Wait!" Ed turned back to Mustang, scowling. "Here's your pocket watch mister – I guess that's the closest I'm ever going to get to one."

Mustang watched as Ed disappeared after his brother. After he had vanished into the night Mustang looked down at the watch in his hand. So Elric wasn't a state alchemist. True, Mustang _had_ pulled some strings, but enough to really make that big a difference? He looked back at Havoc, who had fallen into a snow bank.

"Let's get you some place warm." Mustang grumbled as he pulled him up. "I wouldn't even be doing this if I didn't need a drink myself."

After several minutes of walking they reached the doors of a crowded little tavern.

"That's weird..." Mustang muttered. "This place is really buzzing - usually it's pretty quiet..." He pushed open the door and dragged Havoc in. Heavy metal music blared loudly, cigarette smoke hung thick in the air and waitresses dressed in matching outfits carried trays of drinks.

"What happened?!" Mustang asked aloud. "This isn't right!" He pulled Havoc to the bar and set him down on a stool where his sat like a large garden gnome. "Hey!" Mustang waved down a female bar tender in a mini skirt and bikini top. "What's going on here? Where did all these people come from?!" He asked loudly over the drone of the music.

"Hon - This is a quiet night!" The girl laughed. "Can I get you something? We don't take kindly to loiterers 'round here."

"Uh...Just get us something -" He looked over at Havoc, who was still moping. "Strong. My friend's having women troubles." Mustang jerked his head in Havoc's direction. "He could use some distracting."

The girl behind the bar grinned. "I think I know what you mean." She stood on tip toe and waved across the crowed room. "Hey Julie-Ann! Get over here – I've got some work for you to do!"

A brunette came rushing over, expertly weaving her way through the crowd. "Ooo!" She gushed when she reached the bar. "I've never seen _you _before!" She winked at Mustang and giggled. "Are you new in these parts?" She hopped on to a bar stool next to him and leaned in close. "I'm awfully lonely. I have a huge apartment all to myself on Christmas Eve…" She walked her fingers across Mustang's shoulder and looked adoringly at him, then whispered in his ear; "I get off in half an hour."

"Julie – Over there." The girl behind the bar pointed at Havoc. Julie slouched. "Do I have to? I sorta like this one."

"You have to if you wanna keep your job."

"Aw…" She stood and set off for Havoc – then turned back. "See you in half an hour…?" She asked hopefully.

Mustang shook his head. "I'm dreaming." He laughed. "This is all just a crazy dream – And I make it a point never to get romantically involved with fragments of my imagination."

"Humph!" Julie stamped her foot, then turned back to Havoc and began putting on the same show she had for Mustang.

The doors flew open and a blond girl entered, dragging Ed Elric behind her.

"Stop your complaining Edward! You promised me we'd go out for Christmas and I'm holding you to your word." She threw the boy down at a table by the stage and sat down herself.

"I don't think we should have left Al out there…" Ed sighed. "He looked lonely."

"He'll be fine!" The blond girl waved down a waitress. "We'll have two lobsters please!"

"LOBSTERS?!" Ed shouted.

"Edward! Shhh! People will stare!"

"Let them! I'm not going to order a lobster – not even for you Winry. I don't have enough money to pay for that sort of –"

"Oh okay. Just get me a hamburger then you cheap-skate."

The waitress nodded and left, leaving Ed and the blond girl alone.

"Winry – can I _please_ go check on Al?" Ed asked after a second.

"You take me on a date and then you hang out with your brother?!" Winry asked through phony sobs. "Fine Edward! Be that way! Go check on him and don't come back!"

Ed jumped up, knocking his chair over. "Merry Christmas." He grunted through clenched teeth.

Winry watched him go, and then slumped over her table – this time really crying…


	5. The Fate of the Rockbells

**Author's notes: First off - I'd like to apologize for the miserible langth of this chapter. It's short and there's no way around it. I'll make it up by posting more really, really soon! Okay - now that that's outta the way, I can say thanks to to everybody who reviewed this!!! I'm so glad you did! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! Okay, moving on...Wait - one more thing! My writing may seem...broken (?) In this chapter - I'm not sure why - but things smooth out in later chapters...Maybe I just had to get warmed up...Just a quick F.Y.I.**

Mustang watched the scene from the bar, then got up and wove his way through the crowds to her table "Uh – Miss…?" He asked when he reached her.

Winry looked up, her checks wet. "What do you want?!" She asked, hiccupping slightly.

"I wanted to ask you a couple questions." Roy began.

"I think I know where this is going." She said icily. "And I don't like it. Go away you creep – before my boyfriend gets back in here and beats you up!"

"You don't understand!" Roy said franticly. "I wanted to ask you about your parents."

"They're waiting out-side for me – if I so much as scream they'll come rushing in here and my father will pound you into the ground!" Winry stood quickly and began backing her way towards the door.

Mustang felt a warm rushing feeling. _Winry's parents – alive?_ "You're parents are alright then?" He asked hopefully.

The teen froze. "What do you mean; 'are they alright' – why wouldn't they be?"

"They served in Ishbal – I was wondering…"

"How did you know?" She asked softly, he eyes were wide and fresh tears were falling down her checks.

"I – "Mustang searched for a way to explain. "I was there."

"Did you know them?" She asked, more tears come rolling down her checks and she took a step towards Mustang.

"I – knew of them. I never met them, but I heard they were treating Ishbalans too, and that the state didn't like it."

Winry nodded. "They were killed! They were executed for helping!" She rushed to Mustang and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his coat.

"Later – I found out the man who did it - Private Shmitter - killed himself. I guess he must have felt pretty awful – but that doesn't help me forgive him!" She cried, still holding onto Mustang.

Roy looked down awkwardly and patted Winry on the shoulder once. So the Rockbells were dead anyway. Either way they had been doomed…

Winry pulled away and took several deep breaths. "Sorry." She said, blushing. "I just miss them a lot."

Mustang nodded. "I understand."

"I really should go find Ed now." She sighed. "He's probably off working on his alchemy…He wants to work for the state – but he keeps failing the written exam."

Winry gave Mustang a quick wave, then left through the double doors. Frowning slightly, Roy returned to his seat at the bar, lost in thought.

Havoc had returned to his normal self, and was boasting to Julie about his adventures in the eastern rain forests – where Mustang knew he'd never once set foot.

"-and then they made me their chief." Havoc was explaining, his speech slightly slurred.

"Wow. That's really…great." Julie grumbled sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and tried wink at Mustang, who had begun staring at his drink, as though in hope that it might tell him what to do next.

Suddenly the roaring music stopped and all heads turned towards a stage at one end of the crowded room. Mustang looked up with mild interest to see a man dressed in a tuxedo enter.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The man on the stage said into an old fashioned microphone. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you; a delightful Christmas treat, the very beautiful – Miss Sandra Rouge!"

The crowd clapped unenthusiastically and Mustang turned back to the bar, taking a large swallow of the drink before him.

Music started and the voice of a woman began singing in a shaky voice. "I wanna be loved by you – just you – and nobody else but you."

Mustang spit out his drink, spraying the girl behind the bar. He knew that voice. It was unmistakable. He turned slowly to see a blond woman dressed in a sparkling red gown with a plunging neck-line holding a feather boa - a woman who could be none other then Riza Hawkeye.


	6. Mrs Tony DeMancii

_**Author's notes:** I'd like to add to my disclaimer that the song Hawkeye sings sadly isn't mine. Those of you who watch Gilligan's Island obsessively or old Marilyn Monroe (sp?) movies already know that. But I just thought I'd better let the rest of you guys know: It's old. I didn't write it. Blahblahblah…_

"I wanna be loved by you - alooooooo-o-own!" Hawkeye tried to walk down to the audience, but the high heel of her shoe caught on her dress and she tripped half way down.

The crowd laughed loudly and Riza stood, blushing as red as her dress.

"I couldn't aspire – "She tried to keep going, but the audience was laughing so loudly they drowned out her unsteady voice. She stood limply for a second, then hitched up her skirt and rushed back up the stage, disappearing behind the velvet Curtin.

"Poor thing." The woman behind the bar sighed, wiping the sprayed drink unconcernedly from her face. "That's the second time this week. Last time she forgot the words to Melancholy baby."

"Has she worked here long?" Mustang asked, trying to sound conversational.

"No. She just started last month. She said she worked in a night club before. But I think she's lying." The woman began wiping the counter with a rag. "She obviously can't sing."

"I thought she sounded good." Mustang said blankly, still looking at the empty stage.

"You must be heard-a-hearing." The woman grumbled. "She only got the job cuz she can fit in Stacy's costumes – Stacy used to work her – but then she went and got herself pregnant." She carried on, completely unaware that it was an awkward and personal topic.

The man in the tuxedo came back on stage and began trying to quite down the audience, which was shouting and jeering.

"Uh ha – and that was the charming; Miss Sandra Rouge!" Riza's stage name was met with louder shouting. "Ladies and gentlemen – please – give Miss Rouge another chance!" The man begged pathetically

"We want somebody who can sing!" A man from the audience yelled. The tuxedo man sighed. "Then our next act – the lovely – Miss Francine." A red-headed girl came out and began dancing to a Christmas song. Mustang turned back to his drink. Trying to let it sink in. Hawkeye – a singer?

A side door opened and Riza came rushing out, wrapped in a trench coat and dragging her feather boa behind her. Mustang stood quickly, his knee colliding with the bar. Cursing several times, he made his way across the crowded room to meet her. "Hawkeye!" He yelled over the music, which was climbing steadily in volume.

Riza looked up, confused. Seeing Mustang she looked down and quickened her pace to the to the door, let it slam closed behind her in his face. Rubbing his nose gingerly, Roy opened the door again and rushed into the cold.

"Riza! Wait!" He tripped on the stairs to the pub and fell over, landing face down in the snow. Hawkeye tuned back and looked down at him.

"How do you know my name?" She demeaned accusingly.

Mustang picked himself up and wiped the snow from his face with his coat sleeve.

"Lucky guess?" He suggested meekly.

Riza narrowed her eyes. "Have you been following me? Omigod – you're a stalker aren't you?!" Shacking, she pulled out a small spray can from her coat pocket. "I've dealt with your kind before!" She shouted, trying to sound convincing. She held the can at arm's length. "I should warn you that this is pepper spray – now stay back or I'll use it!"

"Hawkeye – "

"Ahhhh!" Riza screamed, she stumbled back and squirted the pepper spray around wildly. Mustang caught most of it in his face and was blinded by a burning sensation in his eyes.

"Uoh! Hawkeye! What was that for?!" He rubbed his eyes franticly, trying to get the sting out.

Riza turned and began running away, but escaping in high heels in a foot of snow was not an easy thing to do, and she fell to the ground.

"Get back!" She yelled, even though Mustang hadn't moved. "Go away or I'll call the cops!"

"Don't – I didn't – you don't understand" He stuttered.

"Police! Police!" Riza picked herself up and pointed a long glossy red finger nail at Mustang. "He tried to abduct me! Arrest him!"

A stout cop toddled over and followed her gaze to where Mustang stood.

"Ah he did, did he miss?" He asked, sounding like he had a head full of hot air. "I'll handle this!" He hurried over to Mustang as quickly as his short legs would allow and clapped a set of hand-cuffs over his wrists.

"What's going on? I didn't even get within five feet of her." Mustang tried to explain.

The cop shook his head. "Sorry sir, but in cases like these we have to go by the lady's word – and she says you tried to kidnap her."

Mustang groaned, then stopped and tried to keep a grin from spreading across his face – he was beginning to get an idea…

"Yes – I understand. I acted out of line I supposed." He sighed. "It's just that I thought Miss Hawkeye was expecting me. "I'm a talent scout you see – I wrote her explaining how I'd be coming to see her see sometime near Christmas – But I guess my letter was lost in the mail." He looked down dejectedly. "It won't take long to clear things up though – one call to my employer should straighten everything up…it's just too bad the lady will have to miss out on her addition."

The cop frowned. "That's a shame." He said in a voice that suggested he couldn't care less. "Now let's get a move on."

"Certainly officer." Mustang agreed submissively. "But first; tell me - Have you ever been in theater? I'm sure I've seen you on stage before."

"What? Me? Oh no." The cop laughed. "Of coarse – I _was_ head of my drama team back in collage, but that was a long time ago…"

"Well why did you ever give it up?!" Mustang asked dramatically. "You have all the makings of a Shakespearian star! Your voice is perfect for the part of Hamlet – so deep and serious!"

"Gee…" The man scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Do you really think so?"

"Sure! Tell you what – you meet me back here in three days at noon – and we'll discuss your auditioning for something." Mustang clapped him on the back.

"Oh! I have to go home and practice then!" The cop grinned. "Wait til' I tell my wife about this! And she says I'm a failure! Ha!" He turned and began hurrying down the street, reciting sonnets as he went.

Mustang turned back to Riza, chuckling to himself.

"You aren't really a talent scout are you?" She said blankly. It was more a statement then a question

"What makes you say that?"

"You're wearing a uniform, and even if that was normal – you can't honestly tell me you thought that man was talented."

"Yeah – he was a ham, but luckily he was full enough of himself that he believed me."

The two stood in silence for a second. Mustang shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tugged at his shirt collar.

"I should warn you; my husband is coming to pick me up, and if he finds you here he won't be very hap-" Riza was cut off by Mustang.

"Your husband? You're married?" Roy could only stare open mouthed. He'd never thought Hawkeye would be married. For some reason he couldn't see her in a wedding dress – or a dress of any kind for that matter.

Riza held up her left hand and waved her delicate fingers, sparkling on her ring finger was a huge diamond set in gold. "I'm Riza DeMancii now." She said proudly.

_Okay…Looking back the whole cop scene was weird…I don't know how that happened….There's some Royai coming up next chapter! Promise!_


	7. Mr Tony DeMancii

_**Author's notes: Sorry it took me so long to post this! I feel behind in my writing and started goofing off...Anywho; this chapter marks the beginging of what I hope is a more serious turn in this story - So enjoy your fluff while it lasts. And of coarse; A big thank you to everybody who reviewed! (And also thanks to those that just read - you guys are important too!)**_

Mustang continued to stare. "Are you happy?" He asked softly after a minute.

Riza looked down at the sparkling ring and bit her lip. "Yes." She whispered quickly.

Mustang reached out, hardly aware of what he was doing. He ran his fingers across her cheek and gently tilted her head up, tears were forming in her wine colored eyes and she avoided his gaze.

"Are you happy?" He asked again, this time his voice was so soft that is was scarcely more then a breath from his lips, turning to mist in the winter air.

Slowly, Riza shook her head. "No…" She swallowed, and for the first time that night - looked Mustang in the eye. "It's awful." She choked. "I can't break up with him, I can't run from him." She closed her eyes and took a shuttering breath. "I've tried…"

Roy let his arm fall naturally across her shoulders, and Riza relaxed slightly. She dabbed at her eyes with her feather boa, her mascara was running slightly and her checks were wet. One of the white downy feathers stuck to her face. Roy pulled it off and held it, Riza let out a chocked laugh and smiled slightly.

"RIZA!" A deep voice interrupted the comfortable silence, shattering it like glass. Both turned to see a tall blond man in an expensive pin-strip suit. A heavy set man stood behind him wearing sun glasses and a blank expression. They must have snuck up on them, the snow muffling their foot steps.

"Tony…" Riza pulled away from Mustang and looked down at her feet.

"Riza baby – what's this?" Tony asked through a thick accent. "I leave you here to do some honest work – I come back and you're smooching with another man!"

Riza cast a glance at Mustang out of the corner of her eye. "I wasn't smooching." She whispered. She clenched her fists, but didn't look up.

"Hon-eeey! I've been around the block a couple times – you think I don't know a cheater when I see one?" Tony crossed his arms and tapped his foot. "Now you can come clean and hope I'll forgive you – or you can keep lying. It's up to you."

Riza looked up. "I wasn't cheating…I - I was talking. This has gone on too long Tony – you need to start trusting me. That's what marriage is about – trust." Riza's tone quavered slightly, but she seemed to becoming more confident with every word.

"Trust?" Tony DeMancii laughed. A laugh that was cold and empty. "Riza, if that's what you think marriage is about – then you have been sorely misled." He looked across the man who stood next to him, the man nodded once and reached into his coat with his right arm.

Riza watched him nervously but didn't back down. With out looking away, she reached for Mustang's hand. Finding it, she clenched it tightly and with surprising strength.

Mustang knew instinctively not to speak. This was Riza's battle, he wasn't to intervene.

Riza took a deep breath, still holding onto his hand. "Tony – I want a divorce." She said. Her tone was as hard as steal, and her words were a command more then a suggestion.

Tony sighed in what he must have intended to be a sympathetic way. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this baby. When we were married you promised 'Til death do us part' – and I'm afraid I'm just going to have to hold you to that."

Before Mustang could act – before he even had time to think – Tony nodded and the man next to him pulled out a gleaming Sid Sauer. There was a shot and Riza crumpled, still holding tightly to Mustang's hand.

Roy caught her before she could fall. Already Riza felt light and limp – like a giant rag doll. "I did it." She whispered triumphantly, her head resting on his shoulder. "For 7 years I've wanted to stand up to that man. I could never – " She stopped to catch her breath. "-never find the strength." She closed her eyes. Roy felt her grip on his hand loosen, and Riza's hand fell lifeless to her side.


	8. Silence

_Author's notes: Alrighty! Sorry to keep everybody waiting so long, but you guys were all very patient and I salute you for it!_

_Yoky: (aka my beta tester) Things are a lot different in this chapter then in the original I sent you, so you might wanna re-read it. It's like a completely different story…._

Mustang bent, lowering Riza gently to the ground. Willing himself not to collapse as well. His knees were buckling and his head was spinning. The sound of the gun shot rang through his ears – defining, blocking out all other noise. It took on its own rhythm; playing over and over until it turned into some sort of twisted war song.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Again and again he heard it, then a new sound began, one worse yet; Laughter. Somebody was laughing. Cold and merciless; the sound split the other wise silent night, and for Mustang it mingled with the pounding noises in his head.

Bang. Bang.

"Heahea –"

_Stop. Stop._ He thought angrily to himself, not being able to get a grasp on whole sentences.

Bang.

"Hea" Bang "Hea hea –"

_Go._

"Ha ha"

Bang. Bang.

_Away._

"Haha ha!!"

_Please..._

"Alright pretty boy." As if in answer to his silent cry; Tony stopped laughing and put on a more serious face. "Ya' got five seconds to run before I let you get the same thing as your girl-friend." He pulled a small pistol from his jacket, the moon light reflecting eerily off the perfectly polished steel. He waved a hand dismissively at the man behind him.

"I'll be back to pick you up." The gorilla like man droned in a deep, monotoned voice. He turned and began walking away, disappearing into the darkness after a few seconds.

"Now," Tony looked down adoringly at his gun, cradling it like a child. "Let's finish this."

Roy ignored him for the moment. Riza was all that counted for now. Still bent, he brushed the hair from her paling face. Her eyes were closed, as if she was only sleeping…There was nothing that he wanted more in the world then to be laying in the snow next to her, slumbering as well.

"What's wrong?! You deaf?" Tony jeered. He waited for Mustang to respond.

"It's my fault." He told the body before him, in a vain hope that it might hear. "I could have done something – All I could do was stand there like an idiot." He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain. "If this is a dream then why can't I wake up?!" He hit himself hard on the head, but the pain that followed was a real as he'd ever felt. His skull was throbbing and he felt dizzier then before.

"What's wrong you cheating little coward?! Afraid to face me?!" Tony strode over to him and poked him with the barrel of his gun, like an animal playing with its pry.

Mustang continued to look down at Riza, blood had begun to stain the snow around her, and it was only then that Roy realized that his gloved hands were covered in the sticky substance as well. The brilliant red stood out against the simple white cotton. It had soaked through making them damp and useless. His only form of defense – or attack – was gone. As was his only hope for revenge.

* * *

Tony DeMancii was unnerved by the pale, dark haired man at his feet. Never before had somebody ignored him so completely. Always his captives had been filled with fear, he'd taken pleasure in watching them beg and plead for another chance – even the ones who'd acted so tough, who'd told him they weren't afraid of death – they'd been lying. He could tell. But this man… 

"Any final words?" He asked, hoping to coax him into looking up – so he could see his eyes, perhaps a glimmer of fear lurked within their dark corners…

Still the man didn't turn, he didn't even move. Tony poked at him with the toe of his leather loafer. "Okay, you wanna die tight lipped – I'm not about to complain." He cocked his gun, his finger on the trigger, he wasn't going to pull it until he got his victim to say something though – he was sure there'd be fear in his voice.

* * *

Mustang heard the click of a gun being cocked and felt the stab at his shoulder blade as Tony pressed the weapon into him.

The craving for revenge burned inside him, revenge would make him feel better some how; some how it'd stop the pain. But even as he thought it, he knew deep inside that it wasn't true. Nothing that night had been farther from the truth; not even Tony's accusations about Him and Riza. He ignored the voice inside him and clenched his fist. He couldn't just sit back and do nothing; he had to do something – anything.

With out warning Mustang spun suddenly to face Tony, catching him off guard - And in one swift motion he let his fist collide with Tony's jaw.

What came next was a blur. There was a sharp cry - then a gun shot. Mustang became vaguely aware that there stinging pain in his right arm, but it felt distant and far away. He swung wildly with his left arm, having lost control of his right one. He felt his fist hit something hard and heard another cry. The sound gave him a grim satisfaction; he'd managed to hit Tony again.

There was a string of vile curse words and the sound of a gun being cocked once more. Mustang reached out blindly – trying to take the weapon away before it could do anymore harm. There was another gun shot – and then…silence.


	9. The shuffle of angel's feet

**_Author's notes:_ **_Omigosh! I'm soooooooo sorry that I took so long to post this! I was doing a lot of re-writing and stuff...Hopefuly it worked out better - but I don't know...Maybe I'm just being too picky..Prepare yourselves to board the 'random-train-of-thought express' of a man very near death...it's a strange and bumpy ride that does in-fact; involve mini-skirts. I do make a semi-referance to 'dumb blonds' in this...I really don't mean to say that blonds are dumb or anything else! It's just part of the story...so in advance: no offence ment!_

Mustang opened his eyes. He was greeted by a view of the night sky, dark and barren. His right arm was hurting worse then ever, and his body felt heavy.

Groaning, he tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey. Trying to ignore the splitting head ache he felt, he turned his head to the side.

The sole of a perfectly polished leather loafer greeted him. Tony was laying in the snow as well. Hurt badly, maybe even dead. Mustang didn't care either way. He turned his head the other way, biting his lip against the throbbing pain.

Hawkeye lay on his left. Looking even paler, a thin line of blood ran down from her lip.

Roy forced his left arm up and, ever so gently, wiped the blood away with his coat sleeve.

He knew it was the end. It had to be the end. His arm was bleeding badly; he didn't have much time left. Soon he'd be dead too.

For a moment he pretended that Hawkeye was alive, just sleeping. They were married and this was the morning after their wedding – the first day of their new lives together. He'd woken up early to surprise her with breakfast in bed….Or perhaps they'd been married longer; a year or two – maybe five. Any minute the sounds of their children playing would wake her. They had a whole family and a little house in the country…No…Maybe it was later in life; much, much later. Their children had long since moved away, leaving the aging couple alone in an empty house. That would explain the aching pain that Mustang felt – he was growing older. Riza looked the same though – just as young and beautiful as ever. Like a violet that had been pressed between the pages of a heavy book, preserved forever. Roy on the other hand – he felt weak – weak and crumbling.

For just that moment he lay, lost in impossible fantasies – waiting away the time until death. It could have been minutes – it could have been hours. He had lost track of the passing of time and his vision had long since blacked out.

He could feel his own blood soaking his uniform, thick and warm – seeping through the wool to his skin and tingling.

The pain wasn't so bad anymore – it was beginning to feel almost comforting. And he could see Hawkeye again, they'd meet at the gate – she was sure to be waiting for him. They could face death together. He wasn't afraid of dieing any more. He let his mind wander as he waited to join her.

The seconds ticked by. Roy counted them to himself; it was the only way he could keep from going stir crazy.

'_One, two, three, four, five…six.' _He stopped, counting was boring. He'd all was thought so – even when he was a little kid, he'd failed math horribly. He still wasn't sure why he needed to know all those stupid formulas – they were about as useful as the miniskirt he'd had tucked away in the back of his closet in his apparent – in vain hope that someday he could get Riza to wear it. He felt the trace of a smile dance across his face as his pictured the blond woman in the small blue skirt. It was a shame he'd never gotten to see her in it. She'd never have worn it though - never in a million years – even if they were married.

Marriage. For the second time that night the thought flickered through his mind. So many times he'd been tempted to ask her, but she'd always given him that look – that look that clearly said: _'Something on your mind, sir?' _And he'd always lost his nerve. Hawkeye was so unlike other girls. He'd tried to make her jealous by taking out the most dim-witted, large chested blond he could find – only to have her wish them a good time as he walked the girl down the steps of central.

Mustang was sure Hawkeye had pretended not to notice the fact that he let his hand rest rather lowly on the blond's back – the girl had only giggled shamelessly. She would have put on a miniskirt for him in a second…come to think of it, Roy was pretty sure she'd offered…That was when he'd got that splitting head-ache and had to go home.

With a pang he thought longingly of the home he'd had as a boy, and how he used to lay awake at night and listen to the sounds his house would make - The creaking and groaning as it settled. Mustang strained to listen, half expecting to hear the sounds once more. There was silence, absolutely nothing was stirring. And then – Mustang was sure he'd imagined it, but he thought he heard the snow crunch. Never mind, he was slipping from reality, it was bound to happen. He tried to get back to what he'd been thinking about '_…Mini skirts? No…Riza in a mini skirt?'_

Crunch.

'_There it was again! It was faint, but most defiantly there.'_

Crunch. Crunch, Crunch.

'_Something – or someone – was walking around.'_

Crunch. The sounds grew louder as what ever it was came closer.

Mustang could hear the sound of someone breathing, and the pattern of breathes almost seemed familiar - like the way sights of everyday life vaguely echoed dreams at times.

Crunch. Crunch.

Over the sound of the snow being packed down, Mustang could have sworn that he caught the fait sounds of someone humming softly, but it was too quiet for him to recognize the tune. The sounds were coming much, much nearer. Suddenly they stopped, the humming died – even the sounds of someone breathing were stifled. There was a long pause, during which Mustang held his breath, even his pounding heart seemed to stop for the moment.

The footsteps broke into a run.

The last things Mustang could remember were the sounds of somebody out of breath leaning over him, and the feeling of cold fingers on his neck, searching for a pulse - Then an excruciating pain as somebody attempted to lift him up. The pain was so intense that Roy felt himself slipping from consciousness. He was too weak to struggle. Defeated, he gave in, letting himself drift into a grateful sleep.


	10. Chicken Soup

_Author's notes: It's been over a week since I up-dated! What must you think of me?! And I left you all on a cliff hanger too! I guess the words 'I'm sorry.' Don't really even begin to cover it – but I really and truly am!!!! Thanks for reviewing! I don't always have time to respond to them all, so if I don't – don't take it personally! And this chapter isn't what it could have been…I was under so much pressure to just post something…Sorry! __And also a HUGE thanks to Nanyoky for being my beta-tester! E-hugs gal-pal!_

"Sir?" A woman's voice woke Mustang from his cold-induced slumber. He was laying on something soft and warm, blankets were piled atop him and his right arm was throbbing, he could feel coarse cotton bandages covering it. Groaning, he tossed his head back and forth, trying to find a position that didn't give him a head ache.

"Mmmuph…Riza – what time is it?" He asked groggily, reaching out with his left arm for the woman he thought was laying next to him. His hand brushed against the empty sheets.

"Riza?" _'Where was she? Didn't we fall asleep together?'_ Then the events of the night came rushing back to him. He could see himself falling asleep in the snow – and waking up to find that nobody knew him – then holding Hawkeye as she died of a gun shot that was all his fault - and at last his struggle with Tony DeMancii. He let out a shuttering gasp. The nightmare never seemed to end – it only continued on and on, growing steadily worse.

"Are you alright?" The woman's voice spoke again.

"Where am I?" Mustang groaned and with some effort; opened his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light.

"You're at the Hughes house – oh thank goodness my husband found you! You nearly froze to death!" The woman answered quickly.

With a click everything fell into place. His vision adjusted and he could see Gracia Hughes leaning over him, wearing a pale purple brocade dressing gown, her short dish-water-blond hair falling in her face.

"Your husband?" Mustang rubbed his eyes with his free hand. '_Maes is dead – what's she talking about?'_

"Um-hmm." She pulled out a thermometer from a pocket in her robe and without warning stuck it into Roy's mouth.

"Hem!" Mustang struggled to get words of protest out around the cold glass instrument.

"The doctor did the best he could for you, he said it'd be risky for us to move you again to a hospital – and that you should stay here until you woke up." Gracia explained to her captive audience of one.

"Of coarse Maes and I didn't mind – "

Mustang's mind began to wander as Gracia continued explaining. _'Why did she keep talking about Maes – he had died – why did she go on like he was still alive? And who had carried him – "_ Then, with a grim realization; he understood. Maes was alive – because Roy had never been born. Sinking back onto the bed he tried to get a grasp on everything.

He'd always blamed himself for the death of Maes Hughes. He'd told himself over and over that he was the one responsible. But then there'd always been just the foggiest possibility that he was wrong – and that Maes' death was unavoidable. Mustang would never admit to thinking such a thing though. None the less – it had been that tiny nagging voice deep inside him that had made it possible for him to get up each morning and keep on living. Without him ever knowing it; that thought had been keeping him alive since Hughes had died. But now he knew for sure, now there was no more doubt

The sound of soft foot steps on creaking wooden brought Roy back to reality with a snap.

"He's awake now – why didn't you come sooner?" Gracia whispered worriedly.

"Sorry darling – I was reading our angel a bed time story - It's the cutest thing how she begs for just one more! I couldn't say no!"

Even though he hadn't seen him in so long, Maes Hughes' voice was just as Mustang remembered it. He even looked the same; his dark hair was slicked back, except for one piece that stuck stubbornly up, and unlike Gracia; he wasn't wearing his pajamas, but a dark blue military uniform.

"Has he said anything yet?" by some miracle Maes stopped talking about his daughter and turned his attention to the pale, dark haired man with a thermometer in his mouth.

"Yes – something about…Riza." Gracia Hughes replied.

Mustang felt the thermometer being pulled from his mouth, there was a pause.

"No fever." She said after a minute. "I'll go get him something to eat. You stay here, Maes – in case he says anything else, the police will want to know." Light foot-steps faded as Gracia left. Hughes watched her go; then slid into her chair.

"How do ya' feel?" He asked after he had settled himself down.

"Like hell." Roy grumbled, taking advantage of Gracia's absence to be more descriptive.

Hughes laughed again, the sound made Mustang feel worse. "Gracia's getting you some of her chicken soup – that should perk you up!" he said brightly.

Mustang highly doubted it, but didn't say so. Instead he took a deep breath and let it out, for the first time that night he realizing that his bloodied uniform had been replaced by striped cotton pajamas. He wondered vaguely why he hadn't noticed sooner.

A clock was ticking somewhere near his head, soft and persistent. He'd never felt so horrible before. Hughes was alive – he was literally living proof that his death had been Mustang's fault.

"I'm Maes Hughes by the way." Hughes introduced himself after a moment, snapping Roy from his wandering thoughts. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. It was just like all those years ago, when he had first met Hughes.

"Roy Mustang." He rasped; his throat stinging.

Hughes nodded. "You had that uniform – you work for the state?"

"Yeah…" Roy made a mental note to kick himself as soon as he was feeling better. Here he was, with the perfect opportunity to talk to his best friend, and all he could say was 'yeah'. There had been so much else that he'd wanted to tell Hughes about, but suddenly he couldn't remember any of it.

"How is he?" Gracia had returned.

"Fine." Mustang lied as he pulled himself up, resting against the head board of the bed. Gracia piled several spare pillows behind him, then set a bamboo tray across his lap.

"Thanks…" Mustang used his un-bandaged arm to pick up the silver spoon that lay next to the bowl and plunged it into the golden colored broth. He stirred it three times clock-wise, then once counter-clock-wise, watching the noodles and brightly colored vegetables swirl around, at last raising a spoon full to his lips. He dumped the liquid into his mouth, then coughed as the hot substance met his tong.

"Damn!" He forgot his manners and swore loudly. Gracia blushed slightly, but pretended not to notice. He took another spoonful, being careful to make sure that it cooled slightly before gulping it down. The warmth spread through him, tingling pleasantly.

From the other room came the distant sounds of a telephone ringing. Gracia sprung up from her husband's lap where she had settled and disappeared out the open-door way to answer it.


	11. To Fix What is Broken

_**Author's notes:**_ _Yay! I got this posted quicker then I though!__ Okay…I feel like I'm losing Roy's character, and that he's becoming sort of muted and not as Royish as he could be. I guess this is what comes of constantly rewriting stuff for him…I hope I didn't screw it up too badly, and I'll try to bring back his character more in later chapters…And of couse: a big thank you to everybody who's been reading and/or reviewing! _

Mustang stirred his soup again. _'What now?'_ He wondered. Where was he supposed to go from here? Things were dragging out far too long to be a dream, he should have woken up hours ago. He wasn't even sure he wanted to wake up anymore; it'd mean losing Hughes again. _'But Hawkeye will be there…'_ He thought with a pang. Going home meant getting her back, but losing his best-friend. One could almost go as far to say that it was equivalent exchange…

"What happened to…them?" Mustang addressed his bowl of soup. Looking at Hughes hurt too much, knowing that he'd as good as killed him…

Even though he had been vague, Hughes knew who Roy was asking about. "The police took care of – uh - everything." He explained, his voice filled with sympathy. "The woman…Was she your wife?"

"What makes you think that?" Roy asked flatly, now examining the bamboo try with great interest.

"Well - she was wearing a ring, and I found you laying next to her…" He looked expectantly, watching Mustang's face for some sign that his guess was right.

"No. She was married to…the other man." Roy felt a surge of jealously at the mention of Tony. He didn't deserve Riza, he'd only hurt her. Why couldn't she have married someone nicer, someone who'd truly loved her?

Hughes nodded understandingly. "Then you were her lover - caught in a fatal confrontation with her husband?"

"No…I was –" What _was_ his relationship with Riza? Were they friends? Friends didn't call each other 'Colonel' and 'Lieutenant'… "I was just…I just…knew her." He finished awkwardly.

"Then why did it come to such a drastic end?" Hughes asked, he tone suspicious. He obviously didn't believe Mustang.

"Her husband was jealous…" Mustang grumbled, becoming annoyed at Maes' failure to understand.

"Oh, so you were just an innocent friend in the wrong place at the wrong time?" He asked.

"Yeah." Mustang nodded.

"Like her bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"No."

"And her husband came in after working late at the office?"

"No."

"He found the two of you. Then in a jealous rage, dragged you both from the house and-"

"NO!!!" Roy didn't know how it happened. He hadn't meant to shout. His bowl of soup went sailing halfway across the room, landing with a dull thud and the sound of shattering glass as the china broke. He and Hughes both stared at the mess in silence.

"I'm sorry." Both apologized at the same time.

"Sorry." Mustang said again. "It was – I shouldn't have…"

Hughes looked at his feet. "No…I guess this was my fault." He smiled sadly. "Gracia always says I have a way of getting under people's skin about things like that."

"Sorry." Roy apologized once more, not for his outburst, but for something else he'd done, something he'd wanted to say since Hughes had died. Saying sorry made him feel a little better, even if Maes didn't understand.

Hughes bent to pick up the pieces of broken glass.

"Let me." Mustang protested, scrambling from the bed to help him. In his hast his leg became tangled in the sheets and he toppled to the floor, landing hard on his right arm.

"Umph!" He let out a strangled cry.

Hughes, forgetting the spilled soup, rushed to his side and helped him up slowly. "Easy! What were you doing? You're supposed to be resting!"

"I can fix it though…" Mustang reached out in vain for the shattered glass strewn across the floor. "I'm an alchemist."

Maes raised an eyebrow. "I know a little about this alchemy business, and you can't transmute anything with an arm bandaged up like that." He helped Roy back into bed and threw the blankets back over him. "Just leave it. You don't have to fix everything. Sometimes it's better just to pick up the pieces and accept it." He paused for a second, and then smiled. "Now enough of all this gloom! I know just the thing to cheer you up!" He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a glossy photograph. "This is my daughter Elicia! Isn't she the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

Roy leaned in to see a little girl dressed in a ruffled dress smiling widely. The sight made him feel sick with guilt, knowing that the child would have to grow up without a father because of him. Who would be there to walk her down the aisle at her wedding? He forced a pained smiled and leaned back.

Hughes – blissfully unaware that Roy was drowning in guilt – pulled out another picture. "And this is her at – "

Gracia appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she'd been crying.

"Maes…" She whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

Hughes turned from his pictures. "Honey?" He set the photos down on the bed next to Roy and walked to the doorway where she stood, wrapping his arms around her. She sagged limply in his embrace, like a giant rag doll.

"That was the hospital on the phone…" She said softly.

Even from the other side of the small room, Mustang could see fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"Did you tell them he was awake and seemed to be doing alright?" Hughes asked.

Gracia shook her head. "It – it wasn't about him…" She cast a nervous glance in Mustang's direction, then looked back at Maes. "It was about you."


	12. Just Like Old Times

_**Author's notes:** Oh gosh – I can't remember the last time I've spent so much effort battling a story! Sorry for the delay folks! I had a really hard time keeping Gracia in character for this…if you think it's bad now – then you should have seen it before! Anyway…I hope this isn't too predictable…I was having issues…-sigh- So I decided to just post what I have and leave it at that. Sorry if it's below what you're used to! I've had a busy week! (I went to an awesome concert yesterday! It was fun, but ate up all my writing time…still – it was exciting!!!!!! I love live music! ) And a big thanks for all the reviews and favorites and everything people! You guys are all so great! _

Hughes held his wife tighter. "It's okay Gracia – we talked about what would happen if it turned out like this, about what would happen if I…" He stroked her hair softly. "…if I wasn't around to take care of you because of _something_…"

Gracia buried her face in his shoulder and tried to say something, but the words that came out were too muffled to be understandable.

From across the room Mustang listened intently, straining to hear over the sounds of his thundering heart. _'The hospital? -around to take care of-?' _The words raced through his mind as he struggled to get a grasp as to what was going on.

Hughes spoke again. "They said I'd still have some time left, it's not like – like I'm…_going_ tomorrow or anything…"

And the truth hit him. How it possibly be anything else? Anything else but…Mustang leaned back, swallowing hard. Something inside him felt free and light, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. To feel so free because of the illness of his best friend was a terrible thing. But he did. A little of the guilt he'd been shouldering for years lifted away and he felt suddenly as if he'd been holding his breath sine Hughes had died. He took in a great mouth full of air, trying to suppress the relief that was spreading through him. _'It didn't matter. It didn't matter.' _A voice in his head chorused over and over. Sure he'd as good as killed his best friend and wrecked the lives of his family members to boot, but Maes had been living on borrowed time – what difference did a couple of months make in the long run?

Gracia pulled away from Maes, wiping the tears off her face with her sleeve and smiling.

"There you go honey." Hughes laughed in a pained voice. "Just keep on smiling like that and everything will be all right."

Gracia let out a choked laugh.

The sound pulled Mustang from his wandering thoughts. He felt like he was lost in a thick fog, his brain refusing to accept the fact that the woman had laughed. He felt his jaw drop but pulled it up quickly, replacing a surprised look with his trade mark frown. He'd always frowned when he was confused. Confusion was a weakness – one that couldn't afford to be shown the enemy. It was something years of military training had beaten into him.

Gracia laughed again, louder and shriller. Hughes took her by the shoulders worriedly. "You're in shock." He stuttered, trying to sound gentle but coming off as slightly frantic and confused. He guided her to the empty chair by Mustang's bed and set her down carefully, giving Roy a pleading look for help.

Mustang was careful not to let his own panic show through. He'd never dealt with a hysterical woman before; he'd only had to comfort the occasional girlfriend who was having a hard day – and he was pretty sure Hughes wouldn't approve of his methods in those cases.

Gracia's laughter grew louder and she buried her face in her hands and shook up and down animatedly in her chair.

Hughes dropped all attempts at staying calm. "Don't just sit there - do something!!!!" He yelled at Roy, who flinched slightly and pulled himself out of bed, careful to give Gracia a wide berth.

"What are we supposed to do?" Roy asked, jerking his head at the woman sitting before them and still not breaking his frown. Gracia's breakdown was unsettling, he wouldn't had minded so much if she'd only cried, but it was the laughing that made him feel so uncomfortable.

"How should I know?!" Hughes' exclaimed. "She's obviously having a breakdown or something! Laughing isn't normal behavior for someone who's about to become a widow!"

There was an awkward pause at the words. Mustang looked at his feet, Hughes coughed.

"Are you afraid?" Mustang asked after a second. He wasn't sure why he asked it, he only found the words coming from his mouth before he knew better.

Hughes looked up, his face very serious. "A little." He smiled sadly. "But more so for what'll happen to – " He cast a glance at Gracia. "Them." He finished.

Roy nodded wordlessly.

"Will keep an eye on them?" Maes asked after a second. "Check in every now and then to make sure they're doing okay?"

"Of course." Mustang agreed quickly. He owed it Maes, after all the trouble he'd caused…

Hughes looked up in surprise. "Really?"

Mustang nodded again. "I will."

"You'll take pictures at Elicia's ballet recital?"

"Sure."

"And you'll make sure Gracia remarries?"

"She's not going to want– "

"You see that she does! I'm not about to let that woman throw the best years of her life away just because I -"

"Alright, I'll try and get her to."

"Good. And you have to make sure Elicia graduates high school, and help her with her homework. And you'll have to be there when – "

Roy rolled his eyes. "Yes. Yes. I'll do all that. Anything else?" He asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice. Hughes could be incredibly annoying at the strangest of times.

"There's just one other thing…" Maes said, lowering his voice dramatically so that Mustang had to lean in to hear him.

"What?" He asked, bound by his guilt to obey what ever whim he came up with.

"You seem lonely and in need of a friend – you should find yourself a wife!" Hughes said seriously.

"That's none of your business!" Roy reacted instinctively, as if it were old times. He could almost hear Hawkeye's voice; cool and calm. _'Please colonel, don't take it out on the phone.'_ He'd always wondered if she'd had any idea what he was so upset about then…She always seemed to know everything.

"Will you at least _try_ and find a steady girlfriend?" Maes suggested.

Roy shook his head. He could search to the farthest corners of the world and never find another woman like Riza Hawkeye, and he wouldn't have anybody else.

Hughes sighed and Roy wondered if he was remembering the blond he'd found him with.

"Alright, just make sure you do the rest." Hughes patted him on the back. "I feel better knowing that my two girls will be taken care of."

They both turned back to Gracia, who was hiccupping slightly in her seat. In all the distraction Roy had almost forgotten about her. Her laughing must have stopped sometime ago, and she seemed to have settled down. She surveyed them, slightly puzzled, as if waiting for her turn to speak. Hughes and Mustang waited for her to say something.

Biting her lip, Gracia closed her eyes and took one a deep breath. "The hospital said you'd be…alright." She finished meekly.


	13. Rivers and Shoes

_**Author's notes:** Well…Here's chapter fourteen! 'Wait!' You say. 'That isn't right! You've only had twelve others – so that makes this thirteen!' Well - I'm not normally a supposititious person, but I didn't want to risk it. For future reference; the real chapter fourteen will be know as 'Chapter fourteen and a half'. Confused yet?_

_Moving on, I some how managed to get a cold, (Staying up until three in the morning playing poker probably had something to do with it…and I wasn't using real money, so don't call the fuzz – unless you consider candy hearts money – in which case; phone away.) Anyway, my point was; if this chapter sucks. Blame it on whoever gave me this crummy cold. It's their fault. This stupid thing is messing up my brain._

-oo00o00oo-

The silence that followed Gracia's words felt like an eternity. For a second Mustang felt paralyzed. He couldn't move. His heart stopped. For just that brief moment he was aware of being completely emotionless, only a hazy empty feeling filled him. Then the guilt set in. The heavy, sad feeling was almost like an old friend to him by now, and he acknowledged it by taking a deep breath. '_Welcome back'_ He thought sarcastically. He should have known it was too good to be true, that all his problems couldn't melt away so quickly and simply. Roy swallowed, barley noticing the by now normal lump in his throat. It'd been a long night. He wanted nothing more then to find a nice deep river to jump into; it would feel so welcoming and refreshing. The water would be like ice, it would take away all his problems. He wouldn't be afraid, not this time. This time he'd jump before he could have any second thoughts. Then it could be all over.

Hughes was in too much shock to notice the cold, determined look on Mustang's face, or how the man's fists were clenched defiantly at his sides. He only looked ahead blankly, trying to comprehend. "Say that again…" he asked softly after a minute.

"Y-you're going to be alight." Gracia stuttered again, also failing to catch Mustang's odd behavior. Roy wasn't even sure if they knew he was in the room any more. Hughes seemed to have completely forgotten about him, he was looking at Gracia as if he'd never seen her before. Slowly, a smile crept up his face, growing until he was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm going to be alright!" He laughed, pulling Gracia up and kissing her. "I'm going to be here to see our Elicia grow up! I'm not going to miss a second of it!" He tried to break away from Gracia and moved quickly for the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Gracia asked desperately, trying to slow her husband's pace by tugging on his uniform jacket.

"To wake up Elicia! We're going out for dinner!" Hughes exclaimed. With a tug he broke free of his wife's grip and bounded out the open door. Heavy steps could be heard as he thundered up the stairs.

"…But it's late." Gracia pointed out in vain, more to herself, since Maes was already gone. She sighed and looked across at Mustang. "You'll have to excuse my husband…" She tried to explain. "We thought – "

"I understand." Roy said, trying to inject a note of happiness and understanding into his voice. The end effect sounded less then convincing, but Gracia didn't seem to notice.

A moment later Hughes reappeared, a bleary-eyed child rested her head on his shoulder as she clung to him.

"Isn't she the cutest?" He asked Mustang in a whisper.

Roy looked up and immediately regretted it. The sight of the slumbering child stirred up fresh guilt. "Adorable." He managed to get out in a flat tone.

Elicia drew back at the sound of his voice, clutching her father tighter. "Daddy!" She whimpered, hiding her face in his shoulder. Hughes smiled understandingly and bent twisted his neck uncomfortably to look at her. "Don't worry - This man is daddy's friend. His name is Roy Mustang."

Elicia tilted her head slightly to see, still being careful to stay close. Mustang tried to smile, but the effort made him feel sick. After a minute Elicia pulled her head away entirely and fixed him with a puzzled and sleepy look. "Muz-tame" She echoed, trying to say his name. Hughes beamed. "That's right honey!" He gushed affectionately. He turned back to Roy. "I missed her so much already. I didn't think I would be able to stand being away from my angel! And now you don't have to worry about looking after her!"

"Yeah." Mustang grumbled, gritting his teeth.

"I mean – it was really nice of you to agree to – especially seeing as how we'd just met and everything – but now you don't have to have that commitment! I'm not going to miss a minute of my sweetheart's childhood! Not a single minute!" Maes carried on with the enthusiasm of a four year old after eating too much sugar.

Gracia sighed and flashed Roy an apologetic look before turning back to her husband. "You didn't _really_ want to go out to dinner?" She asked Maes, cutting him off from what was undoubtedly another comment about their daughter.

Hughes looked as though the answer to this question was painfully obvious. "Why not!? It's Christmas Eve! We should celebrate!"

"Tomorrow we can have a nice little celebration for – "

"Gracia," Hughes interrupted her before she could finish, his tone suddenly serious. "If there's one thing I've learned from these past few weeks; it's that you can never count on _tomorrows_. Sooner or later you run out of them."

Gracia knew better then to protest further. She stood very quietly, looking at Maes as if she had never seen him before. "I'll get dressed." She agreed after a minute, smiling slightly. "And then we can find something for Mr. Mustang to wear and –"

"Don't." Roy cut in. "Just the two of you go, I'll stay here with her." He gave a nod at Elicia, who'd fallen asleep again in her father's arms. "I don't feel up to-"

"What!?" Hughes asked in genuine disbelief. "You'd rather be all alone on Christmas Eve then go out to celebrate and enjoy yourself?!"

"I don't think I could."

Hughes didn't seem to understand what Mustang meant by his simple sentence, but Gracia quickly picked up on its deeper meaning.

"Honey, he's been through rather a lot tonight, don't forget about-" She stopped, looking up nervously to catch Roy's eye. "Don't forget about…his arm." She finished awkwardly.

"So he has to eat left handed? That's not going to be to a prob-"

"I don't think he _feels_ like celebrating." Gracia whispered gently, giving her husband a knowing look.

Hughes' face fell as he finally understood. "But that's just all the more reason to go, he needs a good distraction." He looked pleadingly at Mustang. "Sitting around moping won't make things better you know."

Roy avoided his gaze, instead letting his eyes wander around the room, at last coming to rest at the sight of the spilled chicken soup. Fragments of the bowl still scattered the floor, having been forgotten in all the excitement. "No." He took a deep breath. "It won't make things better."

"…Then you'll come?" Maes asked hopefully.

Mustang thought for a minute. Just yesterday he would have given anything in the world to be able to spend Christmas with Hughes, to be able to hear him laugh and joke. Just like in the good old days. There was only one thing Roy didn't like about those happy times, and that was that he hadn't enjoyed them more. He'd only been glooming, constantly dwelling on Ishbal. He remembered thinking that his life could get no worse. He'd been wrong. And yet he'd just kept on doing the same thing over and over. Even after losing Hughes, he'd thought things couldn't possibly become anymore grim, that he'd experienced all the pain he could. Then Hawkeye had been killed. This time would be different though. This time he'd do things differently. Dream or not – he was going to enjoy his time with Maes. Riza could wait. He'd join her soon enough. What difference did a few hours make when all of eternity stretched ahead? He'd go out, enjoy dinner with the whole Hughes family, and then, later…the river…Riza. He looked up, forcing a smile. It was easier then he'd expected.

"I'll come."

"Are you sure you feel up to it?" Gracia asked, trying to make sure he wasn't just going along to be polite.

"No, I'll be fine." Roy widened his smile with a bit of effort and tried to look sincere. "Really." He added, seeing the skeptical look on her face. "Maes is right. I need a distraction."

"If you say so…" Gracia still didn't look convinced. "I'll take Elicia, and then the two of you can go look through your closet, Maes. I'm sure you have something that will work for Mr. Mustang."

Roy almost laughed at how funny 'Mr. Mustang' sounded. He was so used to an official title that anything else sounded foreign and awkward.

Hughes reluctantly allowed Gracia to take the little girl from his arms. "Mommy?" Elicia opened her eyes again as if she'd never fallen back to sleep.

"Don't worry honey." Gracia whispered gently. "Do you want to go out to dinner for a special Christmas treat?"

The child appeared to be in deep thought, her tiny face twisted up as she tried to decide. "Will Santa still come?" She asked solemnly.

Gracia laughed and nodded. "Sure he will sweetheart. You won't be too tired at dinner though?"

Elicia shook her head happily and squirmed from her mother's arms. Gracia set her down and she toddled out the door, yelling loudly; "I wanna wear my sparkly shoes!"


	14. Say Cheese

**Author's Notes**:_ Whew! I'm really close to being late with this update! I've been working like a mad person! I know I said maybe Valentine's Day for my next update, but that was a **maybe**_,_ and in this case it didn't work out._ _Sorry!!!! I got busy!!! Anywho - thanks very much to Nanyoky! My beta reader!!!! And one more qucik thing; you'll notice that nobody uses seat buckles in this chapter. That's not cuz I don't think they're 'cool', it's just an attempt at being canon, since I didn't think they had them in Amitris, although I could be wrong..._

-oo00oo-

Fifteen minutes later Mustang and Hughes stood by the front door, waiting for Gracia and Elicia. Roy was dressed in a simple dark blue cotton shirt and trousers that Hughes had found buried in his closet. Hughes had also found a spare winter coat for him to borrow, and already the worn wool was itching at his neck where his bare skin touched it. The stiff collar of his shirt didn't quite come up high enough to protect against the rough material.

Hughes, impatient to get going, had wanted to wear his uniform, but changed into fresh clothes after Roy had pointed out that he had gotten blood on it from carrying him all the way home.

Mustang, his thoughts drifting to the river and Riza once again, looked up when his ears caught the song of singing; it was soft, but quickly growing louder.

"-Jingle bells! Jingle bells! Jingle all da' way!!!!!" Elicia came springing down the steps as fast as her short legs could carry her, singing at the top of her lungs – which was quite loud for someone so small. She was dressed in a fluffy white dress with green and red polka dots, and on her feet was a pair of delicate shoes covered in red glitter. She stopped at the last step, hopped onto the floor, and spun around in circles until she reached them.

"Look daddy! Look!" She exclaimed gleefully, stopping suddenly and nearly toppling over.

Hughes' eyes lit up at the sight of his daughter. "You look beautiful Elicia! He bent down and scooped her up. "You're beautiful just like mommy!" Elicia beamed and looked over her father's shoulder at Mustang. Her grin faded.

"Why aren't you smiling?" She asked, her little face knit in worry.

Roy was caught completely off guard. He hadn't even been aware of his expression

"Daddy says everybody should smile on Christmas." Elicia said seriously. "You should too."

Mustang remembered his promise to himself to enjoy that night and put on what he hoped was a convincing grin.

Elicia sighed dramatically. "It's okay for now…." She said, nodding in approval. "But you need smiling lessons."

Hughes laughed. "Isn't she the most-" He was cut off by Gracia, who appeared at the top of the stairs in a bright green dress, a cherry red coat slung over her arm.

"Ready to go?" She asked, leaning over the banister.

"Yes – wait!" Hughes set Elicia down quickly. "I want to take a picture!" He pulled a camera from its place by an umbrella stand. "Okay." He said, holding it up and looking through it. "Everybody stand at the landing of the stairs." He waved his arm at the landing to illustrate what he meant. Gracia stepped down to where he pointed, pulling Elicia up to hold her. Mustang stepped away awkwardly, but Hughes waved his hand towards his family. "Where do you think you're going?!" He asked, still looking through his camera.

"Oh…I – eh…" Mustang stuttered. "I didn't think you wanted me…"

Hughes sighed exasperatedly. Mustang was sure he'd rolled his eyes behind his camera. "Of course I want you in the picture. Now, if you'll just stand next to Gracia…" Mustang followed the instructions, standing slightly behind the woman and on her left.

"Good!" Hughes exclaimed. "Now, if you'll all move a little to the right - no, my right, and – "

"And smile!" Elicia piped in. She already wore a big grin that Mustang remembered from the many pictures Maes had shown him.

"Alright" Hughes fiddled with several of the knobs on the camera. "Three, two…one!"

There was a click, then a bright flash. Slowly the light faded, Hughes came back into focus, grinning broadly. "Perfect! Now if we can get one of Elicia by the Christmas tree-" He began winding the camera up to take another picture.

"Shouldn't we get going?" Gracia asked. "It's already late and…"

"Okay, okay." Hughes sighed and set the camera back down, then helped Gracia into her coat.

"Me too daddy!" Elicia begged. Hughes chuckled and held up a little dark blue coat while Elicia mimicked the motions of her mother and slid each arm into its sleeve.

"Shall we?" Hughes asked once he'd finished, opening the door and holding it for Gracia and Elicia. He waved Mustang out as well, then stepped out himself closed and locked it.

Elicia skipped ahead down the little walk, stopping when she reached the big iron gate. At last the adults caught up with her and Hughes pulled back the heavy latch. As soon as he had, Elicia rushed forward again and up to the old fashioned black car that had been parked against the brick wall that ran along their property. Since no snow covered it, Mustang guessed that it had recently been driven.

Elicia hopped up on the running board and tugged at the door handle. "I wanna ride in the front!" She begged, trying to open the door.

"You're much too small honey." Gracia explained gently, reaching her daughter and trying to pry her little hands off of the handle. "You can ride in the back with me."

"But I wanna ride with daddy!" She tugged at the handle harder.

"Oh Gracia, I don't see why she can't just this once." Hughes said, helping his daughter open the door. "I'll drive slowly, nobody else is on the roads – she'll be fine!" He lifted Elicia up onto the seat and made sure she was settled in before closing the door carefully, then pulled open the back door and helped Gracia in.

Mustang opened the other passenger door with some effort. He still wasn't used to using his left arm, and the door was heavy. It opened with a squeak and he climbed into the slightly cramped back seat.

Maes started the car and they pulled out onto the street.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Mustang leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, enjoying the way it felt on his cheek. His headache had never quite gone away, and the cold felt soothing. His eye lids began to droop. For some reason he suddenly felt tired. Through half closed eyes he watched snow begin to fall. Light and fluffy clusters came drifting down. He heard Elicia squeal with joy at the downpour. "It's snowing! It's snowing!" She sang cheerfully.

"Do you think we should turn back? Is it safe to keep driving?" Gracia asked, not bothering to hide the worry in her voice.

"It's only a little snow!" Maes answered, not sounding at all concerned. "I'll be careful."

Mustang enjoyed the next few minutes, which were free of conversation. For some reason the sound made his headache worse, and he still felt guilty, even though he'd promised himself that he wouldn't.

"Where are we going for dinner?" Gracia asked after a moment.

Curiosity momentarily dulled the pain in Roy's head. '_Where are we going?' _He wondered. Surely the only places open at this hour weren't suitable to take Elicia into.

"It's a little family run restaurant; they stay open all night on Christmas every year." Hughes answered. "And they have the best pumpkin pie there I've ever tasted! I had some on my way home from Central a couple days ago."

"Oooo! Pie!" Elicia exclaimed. "I could eat a whole pie all by my entire self!"

Gracia and Maes laughed.

Mustang pulled away from the window he rested against and looked out the windshield to see where they were. The dim headlights of the car illuminated a narrow road covered in snow. Trees blanketed in the same white substance lined each side of the street, clearly visible by the light from the moon. Behind them was a steep hill that seemed to stretch on forever. Mustang looked back to the road in time to see black and white object came bounding up from the ditch.

"Daddy! Watch out for the puppy!" Elicia screamed.

Before Mustang even had time to register what she had said, the car jerked violently to the right and he was pressed hard against the door by the force. Trees flashed by the window as the vehicle speed down hill, helplessly out of control. Elicia's sobs mingled with the thuds of branches colliding with the car as it flew past them. The car was bouncing up and down on the uneven ground, making Mustang nauseous. Several times he hit his head, the collision sending a shooting pain through him that worsened each time. On one of his trips up he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Hughes. He was slumped over the steering wheel, his glasses askew and blood on his forehead.

At last the trees began to thin; Mustang could see what looked like a large clearing ahead. The hill evened out into flat ground and the car slowed, at last stopping entirely in the middle of the clearing.

He blinked several times, trying to catch his breath. Gracia looked terrified, but gathered herself quickly. "Elicia? Maes?" She asked, trying to pull herself up. "Eh!" She dropped down again.

"Are you okay?" Mustang asked. She looked a little rattled, but otherwise alright.

"My arm, I think it's sprained." Gracia blinked back tears. "What about Elicia?" She asked, forgetting her own pain. "Honey? Can you hear me?"

"Mommy?" Elicia stuck her head up over the top of the seat. Her hair was tangled and tears were running down her red cheeks "Mommy, daddy won't wake up."

Gracia paled. Roy felt the color draining from his own face as well. Those words were so familiar; he heard them in his nightmares regularly. Elicia had said the same thing at Maes' funeral.

Mustang reached forward, putting his hand on Maes' neck, afraid of what he might _not_ find. He waited for a moment, then felt it. A light pulse. A little fast, but that was nothing to worry about considering what had just happened. "He's fine." He told Gracia, who let out a sigh of relief. "Get him in the back seat, and you can drive us home, Mr. Mustang."

Roy nodded. He was just about to open his door when a sound caught his ear. He stopped to listen. It was fait, he could barely make it out. Gracia froze, she heard it too. Even Elicia seemed to be listening.

It sounded like…ice cracking.


	15. The Revenge of Jean Havoc

_**Author's Notes:** Wow! I'm sooooooo late!!!! I'm really, really, really sorry folks!!!! I've had a crazy time, but I've been writing non-stop for like three days straight, and I've got some great stuff lined up so I won't be late next time! I'm only posting this for now though, since otherwise it would be like 4,000 words, and that's waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much for one chapter – so I'll just update again really soon with a nice long chapter, longer then this! And just to warn you; this chapter sorta jumps around, sorry if it's confusing..._

_Oh! I'd like to Wish Pickles the Great a very happy birthday!!! This chapter was going to be a present for you, but then it got insanely long and I had to cut it into pieces. So I donno if you still want it, there isn't any fluff like I promised, that's coming later…- Maybe you'll just get two presents…But either way; Happy Birthday! _

_Also; A big thanks to my awesome beta reader Yoky! Oh, and sorry in advance for any type-os I probably made. Yoky's not my editor, so don't blame her! It's just a little late at night, be glad you got an update at all…_

-oo00oo-

Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc was bored. Somehow he'd gotten trapped into the job of staying late at Central to lock up.

He slouched slightly as he strolled down the empty hallways, rattling the knobs on doors to make sure that they were locked. On each door was a sliver plaque with a name in black print on it. Havoc read each one aloud to entertain himself.

"Major Alex Armstrong." He droned in a dull voice. He gave the door knob a quick jiggle before moving on.

"General Derek Collins…locked." He groaned. Couldn't somebody forget to lock their office for a change? That at least might spice things up a bit.

"Colonel Roy Mustang." Havoc felt a surge of jealousy as he read the name. The colonel was probably with one of his many girl friends. He could just see him; curled up on a couch with some blond in front of a roaring fire, sipping eggnog. The thought made him sick.

Grumbling about how unfair his love life was, he rattled the dull silver knob with more force then was necessary. There was a click and the door swung open.

Havoc stepped into the vacant office. Moon light filtering though a window outlined a heavy desk and leather backed chair.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure that he was alone, Havoc tip toed across the office. He wasn't sure why he chose that particular style of walking, but it was fun. He began to hum mission impossible under his breath. Half way across the room; he dropped to his stomach and pulled himself to Mustang's desk using his arms. Who said locking up couldn't be fun? He pulled himself up to his knees and slid open the bottom desk drawer and began to dig through its contents, looking for Mustang's address book.

He pulled out several coffee mugs with the dregs still in them, and something pink and lacey. Havoc snorted loudly. The colonel really should know better then to leave things like that lying around. He set the mugs atop the desk and stuffed the piece of underwear into his own pocket before continuing his search. After several more minutes of looking, he at last pulled a small black leather book from the depths of the drawer. He was going to beat Mustang at his own game and steal one of his girlfriends for a change. Cradling the object gently in his hands, he carefully opened the book and began paging though it.

The first names of girls had been scrawled in Mustang's messy script, and across from each name was a phone number. Havoc grinned evilly. Pay back time. He sat down on the desk and picked up the phone, humming to himself as he dialed.

There was a click as someone picked up on the third ring.

"Hello baby doll." Havoc said in what he hoped was a convincing impersonation of Mustang's voice.

"BABY DOLL?!" a deep voice boomed from the other end of the line.

The blood drained from Havoc's face. "Sorry, wrong number!" He slammed the phone down and took several deep breaths. Getting pay back could be hazardous. He chose a second name and dialed again.

"Hello?" A girl answered, her voice soaked with a rich southern accent.

"Hello…Susie May?" Havoc asked, checking the name again.

"Yes…Who's this callin'?" The girl asked.

"Oh, this is-" Havoc tried to make his voice sound deeper. "This is Roy."

"Roy?" Susie sounded confused.

"Oh, you know – Roy Mustang."

"Oooo! Mussy-kins!" She squealed. "Why does your voice sound funny?"

"Oh, well I ah-" Havoc didn't have to explain. Susie May plowed right on.

"So, where ya'll callin' from sugar?"

Havoc took a minute to enjoy how wonderful it sounded to be called 'sugar' before he answered. "I've got some bad news baby. I have to stay late at the office…do you think you'd like to go out with a friend of mine, just so you won't have to be all alone?"

There was silence at the other end of the line. "Can't I come over there?" She asked after a minute.

"No!" Havoc blurted before he could stop himself. He lowered his voice. "I mean; Nah – you wouldn't like it. It's boring over here, nothing's happening. And you know how they feel about mixing pleasure with work…"

There was a long sigh from Susie's end. "Alright. Where does he want to meet me?"

Havoc punched the air in triumph. "Thanks love, you won't regret this! Now, how does-"

"Havoc!"

Havoc jumped at the sound of his name, dropping the phone and swearing loudly. Swallowing, he turned to see who was there. He thought he recognized the voice, and if he was correct – he was in big trouble.

-oo00oo-

The sound of cracking ice was over whelming.

Roy Mustang reached instinctively for his coat pocket where he kept his gloves. It took him a second to remember that he was wearing a borrowed coat, and that his gloves were sitting back at the Hughes home, blood stained and still damp. Fire would only make matters worse anyway. What good would melting the ice do?

Below them the ice groaned louder.

"We've got to get out." Gracia spoke in a whisper for some reason, as if raising her voice might cause the ice to crack more.

"What about Hughes?" Mustang asked. He kept his voice emotionless, thinking that if he pretended to be calm, he might be able to think more clearly.

Gracia looked up nervously at her unconscious husband. "Is there any way…?"

_Crack!_

As if in answer to her question; the ice snapped loudly beneath them. Mustang tried to think of some way that alchemy could help. Even if his arm didn't have a bullet hole in it, he didn't have anything to draw a circle with, or the time that it would take to draw one.

"You'll just have to get out; I'll try to save him." Mustang said at last. It was all he could think of, no other plans came to mind.

Gracia set her jaw defiantly, looking surprisingly fierce in the dim moon light that reflected off the snow.

"I'm not going to leave him."

"And Elicia?"

Gracia bit her lip. "Take her back to shore."

"I'm not going to just leave you two here to-"

The ice creaked ominously.

"Do it."

"No. I'm not going to let you-"

"Go now, before it's too late."

"You aren't thinking clearly." Mustang said sternly. "Elicia's going to lose both of you; she almost lost her father, now she's losing her father _and_ her mother. And all because you're too scared to face life without him."

Gracia froze, and then nodded slowly, drawing in a shuttering breath. "Let's g-" the last word was drowned out by a defining snap as the ice gave way completely.

-oo00oo-

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye stood framed in the doorway, hands on hips. She wasn't smiling.

"What exactly are you doing?" She asked, raising her eye brow.

"Uh…" Without looking away, Havoc's hand found the receiver and set it back shakily on the base.

"I was just…Did you know Mustang forgot to lock his office door?" Havoc tried to deflect blame away from himself by bringing up Mustang's forgetfulness.

"What's that?" Riza asked, ignoring his question and pointing to a piece of white lace that stuck out of Havoc's uniform pocket. Nothing got past her sharp eyes.

"Oh, um…nothing." He shoved the article deeper into his pocket and tried to look innocent.

Her eyebrows knit as she scanned the office. "Have you seen the colonel?" She asked after a minute.

Havoc let out a sigh of relief. She didn't seem to care that he was using someone else's phone after hours.

"Nope…Haven't seen him" He shrugged. "How come?"

Hawkeye looked genuinely worried. "He left to go see the grave of Brigadier General Hughes' some time ago, I thought he'd be back by now." She tried to look behind the door, as if Roy might be hiding there, but she lost her balance slightly on the puddle of water beneath the empty coat rack. She caught herself in time and managed to stand back up gracefully.

"Have you tried calling his house?" Havoc suggested, taking advantage of Hawkeye's distraction to slip the address book into his pocket.

Riza nodded. "No answer."

"He's probably on a date." Havoc hopped off the desk and stretched. "Since you're here, can I cut out?" He could still try and get a hold of Susie May again…

"Yes, but let me come with you, we can stop by the graveyard and check to see if the colonel's still there." Riza gave with office one last sweep with her eyes before turning back to the door.

"Hey! Wait up for me boss! I need my coat!" Havoc scrambled to catch up with her.


	16. So Close

_**Author's Notes:** Alrightiee! Semi-early update this time, but not really since the last chapter was late. (and sorry in advance for any type-os, I was too lazy to go over this thing with a fine tooth comb, so it isn't perfect) _

_Anyway, before we start; this chapter is dedicated the following people (in no particular order) **Nanyoky** and **Pickles the Great**! Hooray for those two for inspiring me and keeping me writing!_

_**Warning:** This chapter contains Royai. If you have any problems with the sweetest, most wonderful pairing in the whole entire show – then I suggest you don't read any farther._

-oo00oo-

Fifteen minutes later the two were walking at a brisk pace through the un-shoveled sidewalks. Riza looked straight ahead, while Havoc watched his feet. His toes were freezing, and the wind had blown out his cigarette.

"How much further do you think it'll be?" He asked, fingering the little book in his pocket. Susie May was probably growing impatient, and he hated to keep a date waiting.

"Just up there." Riza pointed ahead to a rusting iron gate surrounded by tall evergreen trees.

Riza struggled to pull it open once they reached it. Havoc had insisted that he had sprained his thumb just that afternoon and that his entire hand had stiffened up, making it impossible to grip things.

Once inside it wasn't hard to know where to look. Across the rows of somber gray head stones, two shimmering ice statues marked the way to the Hughes plot.

Hawkeye took wide strides, struggling not to lose her balance. Havoc followed close behind, tripping over the mountains of snow.

Details on the statues came into view. Riza recognized Gracia and Elicia, standing vigil over the grave of Maes Hughes. She stopped short. Something was lying at the foot of the grave, covered with sheets of snow. Havoc bumped into her and collapsed into a snow bank.

"Hey! How about some warning next time!?" He groaned, picking himself up and brushing off his heavy coat.

Riza sprinted the rest of the way, dropping to her knees and leaning over the figure that lay face down in the snow. She knew who it was. It couldn't possibly be anybody other then Roy Mustang.

Gently, she rolled the body over. It was stiff and cold as ice. Not a good sign.

"Please be alive. Please be alive…"Riza pleaded under her breath.

Mustang's face was expressionless. His eyes were closed tightly, and icicles stuck to his ink black hair.

She pulled off her gloves and placed her right ring finger and middle finger on his neck to check for a pulse. His skin was cold, and the freezing air nipped at her fingertips.

She waited for a second, not daring to breathe. Even her heart seemed to stop beating.

Something moved beneath her fingers. She took in a sharp gasp of air, not wanting to believe it. She felt it again. The soft, slow beat of a pulse. Roy Mustang was alive. Barely.

Hawkeye allowed herself a few fleeting moments of pure relief before she went back to work. He wouldn't be alive much longer if she didn't do something.

"Havoc, give me your coat then go for help." Riza ordered, fighting to keep the panic she felt out of her voice.

"But it's cold! You want two hypothermiacks on your hands tonight?!" He asked franticly.

"You'll be fine as long as you keep moving." She reached an arm out for his coat without looking away from Mustang, as though if taking her eyes off of him for one second would let death take him away.

"Yes, sir." Havoc grumbled, pulling it off and handing it to her. He turned and jogged away, disappearing into the night.

Hawkeye watched him leave, feeling more alone then ever. How long would it be before he got back? How much longer did Mustang have?

She had learned basic survival skills in boot camp. Closing her eyes, Riza tried to remember.

_Remove the victim from the harsh elements._

Riza opened her eyes and looked around. There weren't any shelters in sight, nothing but rows and rows of head stones. Not even a caretaker's shack could be scene. She could vaguely remember being told not to move the person too much anyway. She'd have to do her best with what she had.

Shakily, she spread out Havoc's coat over the snow. The thick wool would provide some insulation from the snow. Not a lot, but enough until proper help could come.

As carefully as she could, Riza tried to roll Mustang's stiff body onto it, at last succeeding and then covering him with her own coat.

_Now what?_ She wondered. The most logical thing was to try to keep him warm, but she didn't have anything to use. Mustang was the alchemist, not her. She couldn't transmute snow into boiling water, or heat up rocks so they glowed red with warmth.

And then she remembered something else. Something the instructor had mentioned, to be used should it be a true emergency, one where the victim couldn't be moved somewhere warm immediately. The words rang through her head as clearly as if she'd just heard them spoken.

'_In dire circumstances, skin-to-skin contact can be used to keep the victim's core temperature from falling further.'_

"Oh god." Hawkeye was barely aware that she had spoken. She looked awkwardly down at the man before her, as if seeing him for the first time. Did 'skin-to-skin' mean what she thought it did?

Riza swallowed. She had sworn to protect Colonel Roy Mustang at all costs, even if it meat her life. This was no exception. Besides, it was strictly in the line of duty. Just one officer saving the life of another. Nothing was wrong with that. It was a good thing.

Shaking, Riza pulled off her uniform her jacket, then her olive colored t-shirt. The cold struck immediately, numbing her. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she struggled to pull off the lose fitting uniform bottoms and her thick leather boots. She left her underwear and bra on; not even Colonel Roy Mustang could get her to part with those.

Undressing had been easy enough; nobody was around to see her, except for the colonel, who was unconscious anyway. It was what was coming next that Hawkeye dreaded. Removing Mustang's clothing was going to be significantly more awkward.

"It's all in the line of duty." Riza said aloud, trying to gain the courage. She'd never done anything like it before in her life, she'd never even considered doing anything like it - or at least she wouldn't admit to herself that she'd considered it. What control did she have over her dreams anyway?

Taking a deep breath and pulling away the makeshift blanket, Hawkeye set to work, regretting that she hadn't left her clothes on for that part of the job.

Taking off the colonel's jacket was easy enough. She set it aside and started to unbutton his shirt, trying to avoid looking directly at his bare chest. But soon Hawkeye found that her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, and several times her gaze lingered longer then it should have. Shaking her head to clear any unnecessary thoughts, she continued working, pulling off his socks and boots and tossing them aside. She paused for a minute. She'd taken off everything she could except for his pants, the one thing she'd been trying to avoid.

Closing her eyes, she fumbled to undo the belt buckle.

"It's all in the line of duty." She muttered firmly, trying to slide them off gingerly. _Thank god he's wearing boxers._ Riza thought as she cracked open an eyelid and saw a glimpse of the pale blue cotton

Breathing hard from the effort of undressing the stiff body, she gave the pants one last tug and they came off completely.

Riza took a deep breath, then laid down next to Mustang, closer then she would have liked. She pulled her coat over the two of them. It wasn't quite long enough to cover them completely, and she had to spread lose clothes over their feet.

She settled back down, then, gritting her teeth, placed her arm across Mustang's chest.

His skin felt like ice, and she shivered as the freezing chill set into her as well. She lay perfectly still, looking up at the night sky.

"Uhhh…" There was a soft groaning, the sound made Riza freeze.

-oo00oo-

Mustang was jerked backward as the car plummeted into the water. Darkness was surrounding him. He was falling. Down, down, down, down. It didn't seem to end. He hadn't heard a splash. Where was the water? Wasn't it supposed to be wet? He couldn't see. Where was everyone?

As suddenly as it had started, the falling sensation stopped. He lay frozen, not daring to move. Was he dead? Was that what it felt like to die? He opened his eyes and found, much to his surprise, that he could see. Above him was a round silver moon, stars twinkled around it.

Roy took a second to adjust to his new surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that he was wearing nothing but his boxers. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying next to something warm and soft. Groaning, he tilted his head to see what it was.

Riza Hawkeye was lying next to him, looking like she wanted nothing better then to murder him right then and there.

He felt his heart skip a beat. He'd been sure she was dead. He'd seen Tony shoot her. His dream was tangled with reality. He wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't any more.

"…Hawkeye?" He asked blankly, not wanting to believe what he saw.

"Yes, sir?" She asked. Her eyes glared defensively up, as if daring him to ask what she was doing there.

"Who am I?" He asked.

Hawkeye gave him a curious look. "Colonel Roy Mustang."

"You know me?"

"Yes. I know you. Sir – are you suffering from amnesia?"

"No…I was just checking something." He turned his head to see the grave stone of Maes Hughes a few feet away. He was back. It had all be a horrible dream, a horrible dream with some very beautiful parts, much like real life. There was just one thing that puzzled him.

"Lieutenant, why are you-"

Riza cut him off before he could get the words from his mouth. "You are suffering from hypothermia, sir. Because desirable treatment could not be immediately administered, I sent Lieutenant Havoc for help, then proceeded to use emergency measures."

Roy struggled to get a grip on everything she had said. "…Emergency measures?" He asked.

"Skin-to-skin contact." Hawkeye said quickly, her cheeks turning scarlet. She turned away so that her back was to him.

Mustang wasn't sure how to react. He was lying in nothing but his boxers, next to his first lieutenant –also in nothing but her underwear- who he had up to a minute ago thought was dead. What was a person supposed to say at a time like this? He couldn't pretend that he wasn't pleasantly surprised to wake and find her, but saying so would most likely get him shot. His dream had seemed so real, so true in every detail. But now it was exposed for what it really was; a dream, nothing more then a cold induced fantasy. '_That wasn't really the way things would have been'_. Roy told himself bitterly. '_It's just how you wanted them to be. You're too afraid to face the truth, so you hide behind dreams and speculation.'_ He fell back into the guilty feelings that had plagued him earlier that evening. _'Dreams and speculation, wild guess work…'_ His mind echoed, mocking him.

"Do you think you feel well enough to get dressed?" Riza asked, breaking the silence.

Mustang had never felt less like anything in his life, but he was afraid of what Hawkeye might do if he said no. So instead he tried to sit up, his head spinning as soon as he moved. "Yeah…" he muttered, reaching out for his shirt with one hand while massaging his throbbing forehead with the other. His fingers felt numb and stiff, and they tingled when he tried to move them.

Riza wrapped herself in one of the coats and turned away, in an attempt to give Roy some privacy. Although seeing as she was the one who undressed him in the first place, it really wasn't necessary.

Mustang struggled to pull on his pants, losing his balance and falling several times. His fingers refused to co-operate with him, but after several attempts he managed to get them on. His shirt was much more difficult, the neat row of buttons proving to be a greater challenge then he'd expected. After several failed attempts, he gave in.

"Lieutenant, would you …um…?" Riza turned around at the sound of her name - or rather her title – to see what Mustang needed. Roy thought he saw the flicker of a sympathetic smile, but it was probably a trick of the light, she didn't look like she was in the smiling mood.

Without answering, she took two quick steps so that she was roughly a foot from him and began to do up the buttons, working her way from bottom to top. Her fingers moved quickly and dexterously despite the cold, pulling the tiny porcelain disks through the holes in the fabric.

Mustang noticed how close she seemed to be standing, her head was mere inches from his, bent in concentration as she worked. Her burgundy eyes fixed on their mark, moving upward almost mechanically as she finished each button. Mustang watched her delicate hands as they moved their way up, soon they were at his neck. Her warm fingertips brushed against his skin, making it tingle. She moved to the last button.

"Leave it." He muttered. His hand flew up instinctively, catching hers before she could finish. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his finger tips, and Mustang felt something stir inside him. Before he knew it, his other hand was on the back of her head, his fingers undoing her hair clip.

Hawkeye stood frozen; she even seemed to have stopped breathing. Roy pulled the hair clip away and blond locks came tumbling gracefully down her shoulders, framing her emotionless face. He let the clip drop, not even noticing the dull 'thunk' that it made as it hit the snow. His hand moved down her back, pulling her closer. Hawkeye took several staggered short steps in, so that the tips of their toes touched. Her eyes looked blankly ahead as if she were in a trance. She was closer then she'd ever been before, her fingers still clenched around the final undone button. Her face was close to his, her lips were less then an inch away.

**_...And that's where this chapter ends, mostly because I didn't have the energy to write more. It feels a tad disjointed, but…well; I guess I'm not too disappointed, or I wouldn't have posted at all. Let me take this opportunity to point out the following: This fan fiction is ANIME based. So if you noticed any missing –cough- details, then that's why. Also, skin-to-skin contact really is a cure for hypothermia. No foolin'! Sorry for the random ending…_**

_**EDIT**_ _May 22th, 2008: Oh. My. God. It would appear that great minds think alike. There's a RoyxEd fic using a similar idea out there, and I'd just like to give a shout out to the author; _ **kytyngurl2** and her fic "**Shiver**". "_Shiver" was publushed 07-22-05, well before mine. I didn't steal her idea or anything - it's just one of those freaky things that happens!_


	17. The Christmas Party

_**Author's Notes:**__Ahhhhhhh! It's been two weeks! –hangs head in shame- I'm sooooooo sorry people! I needed a little break, so I took some time off…I think I deserved it - if you think otherwise then too bad. Anyway, I have unofficially finished this story! What I mean is; the __**very last**__ chapter sits on my computer, unedited. It was taking so long that I broke it into two pieces to buy myself some time, since I don't like feeling rushed. I have a definite ending in writing! So no more of this foggy 'I'm almost done' business, I __**am **__done. I'm just not…done done. Once again, random ending on this chapter, although I don't feel that it's as much as a cliffhanger as last time…the next chapter should be the last! Thanks for the reviews and everything! Oh, and once again; sorry for any type-os and/or /grammatical errors._

-oo00oo-

"Hey Boss! Boss!" 

The moment shattered like glass dropped from the top of the empire state building. Mustang turned to see Jean Havoc bounding across the graveyard, waving his arms and shouting.

Riza snapped from her frozen state, jumping back as if her feet were on fire. She looked down at the heavy wool overcoat she wore, suddenly realizing that she still wasn't dressed. Scrambling, she began to gather her things into a bundle.

Havoc nearly tripped over his own feet at least twice before reaching them, brandishing a set of car keys that clinked with every step. "I got a car and – oh…." He stopped mid-sentence when he realized that Riza was wearing nothing but a coat. "Is that the new fashion this season, boss?" He asked, failing to hide a snicker.

Hawkeye gave him her patented death glare, but given the circumstances; she just couldn't quite pull it off. "Would you mind looking the other way while I change?" She asked coldly, indicating the pile of clothing in her arms.

Havoc grinned. "Sure, but why are you-" She silenced him with a threatening movement towards her coat pocket, where a handgun undoubtedly rested. 

"Fine. Fine." Havoc turned around and studied the night sky. Mustang bent and began pulling on his boots, leaving the laces undone. He made a mental note to kill his second lieutenant the second he had a chance. He should have known that his moment with Riza was too good to last.

Riza, with as much dignity as she could muster, slipped on her t-shirt and pants, never once turning off her death glare, which seemed to have the power to melt snow. Once she'd finished she picked up her discarded hair clip, and pinned her hair back up expertly. "Okay." She said stiffly. 

Mustang stood up, using a nearby tombstone to balance himself, and Havoc turned back slowly, looking sheepish.

"Eh…As I was saying before; I got a car, so we can drive to the hospital and-"

"I don't need a hospital." Roy said quickly. He wasn't looking forward to having to explain why he had fallen asleep in a graveyard on Christmas Eve, that wasn't exactly the sort of thing that got a person promoted. 

"Oh sure." Hawkeye pulled her coat on back over her clothes. "Then we can get Major Armstrong to help us amputate your fingers, I'm sure he'd be only too pleased to assist."

Mustang winced. Riza had made her point. It was worth a couple of awkward questions if it meant that his digits could be spared. "Where's the car parked?" He grumbled.

-oo00oo-

Riza didn't say a word on the way to the hospital. Even when Havoc asked her what had happened while he'd been gone.

She had insisted on driving, making Mustang lay down in the back seat while she and Havoc sat in the front.

When they'd arrived at Central hospital Hawkeye had some how managed to avoid explaining how a colonel had gotten frostbite, and nobody really seemed to care. To them; Roy Mustang was just another patient on a busy day filled with people dying from all sorts of more exciting things. 

An hour later he was lying alone in a small room on a neatly made hospital bed, propped up on a stack of pillows. A tray of food had been delivered several minutes earlier – by a very good looking nurse – and Mustang was picking at it moodily. His bandaged hand stung as he tried to hold his fork. Central hospital's methods for curing frostbite were hardly pain free. 

He let his mind wander as he dipped his fork in and out of a pile of watery mashed potatoes. Hawkeye hadn't officially said goodbye to him. She'd only turned and dragged Havoc off. Things weren't going to be the same between them any more. The comfortable silence that he had come to enjoy was gone, and she avoided looking him in the eye now. He had no idea how long she could go on pretending that nothing had happened. Knowing how stubborn Riza was, it might never happen.

There was a soft knock on the door that had been left ajar. Gracia Hughes stuck her head in. " Roy ?" She asked softly. Mustang looked up.

"Oh, come in." He said, trying to sound cheerful. She pushed the door open wider and Mustang saw that she was carrying a tray laden with dishes. Elicia was at her heels, holding a small cardboard box. The smell of roasted ham mingled with the ammonia scented hospital room. Riza appeared next, dragging a large pine tree and avoiding looking at Mustang. She pulled the tree into a corner of the room and set it up right, busying herself with straightening the branches. 

"…how did you?" Mustang stared at the tree. He was pretty sure that hospitals had regulations about those sorts of things.

Gracia laughed, and even though she was smiling, the sound had a sad feeling to it. "We snuck it past the front desk when they weren't looking. We thought we'd have a little celebration." She set the tray of food down on Mustang's empty bed side table. "Common Elicia, put that down and you can come help mommy get the rest of the decorations." The little girl nodded before carefully putting down her parcel then taking her mother's hand. 

"We'll be back in a second." Gracia said over her shoulder as she stepped out.

Riza became even more absorbed in her work of preparing the tree, pushing herself as far behind it as she could, so that the massive evergreen blocked her almost completely from view.

Mustang watched as branches rustled back and forth, their needles falling off and littering the already covered floor.

"Can I help you?" he asked softly. The tree stopped moving. 

"No thank you, colonel. I can manage." A muffled voice answered after a moment. The rustling started again.

Mustang didn't speak again. This was all Havoc's fault. If he hadn't shown up Riza would have let him kiss her. He was positive of that. Then they wouldn't be stuck at this halfway mark between feeling something and acknowledging it.

Gracia appeared again, balancing an armful of large cardboard cartons. Elicia toddled along behind her, holding a plate with brightly colored cookies.

Mustang set the tray from his lap aside and stood shakily, taking the boxes from Gracia.

"What is all this?" He asked, setting them down on the bed and straightening back up.

"Decorations." She answered, taking the lid off one of the cartons and pulling out a gold and silver garland.

"You don't have to do this, I'm fine." his 's words of protest went unheard. Gracia kept insisting that it was no bother, and Riza caught Mustang's eye once with a look that told him not to argue. After that she went back to avoiding him.

Soon the little room was filled with the sights and smells of Christmas. Gracia seemed almost to forget her sadness for a minute and Elicia became more talkative as the evening wore on, challenging 'Uncle Roy' to a game of checkers and then countless rematches, using an old set that she had brought along.

The time seemed to creep by, Mustang felt a surge of guilt every time Elicia moved a checker to a back square and squealed _"King me!"_ He couldn't help but think how she would be playing with Hughes if it weren't for him…

After over an hour of visiting, the little party began to draw to a close. 

"We'll come back tomorrow to pick up the tree," Gracia said, scooping a slumbering Elicia into her arms. "and if you're feeling up to it, perhaps an early dinner?" 

Roy nodded, agreeing more out of Gracia's sake then his own. She really had seemed to enjoy herself that evening, and bringing her a little distraction was the least he could do.

Gracia looked relieved. "Wonderful. You should be discharged by then, why don't you stop by the house around three ?"

"Sure." Mustang nodded again. "Oh, and Hawkeye?"

Riza looked up from her task of packing away the food. "Yes, colonel?" She asked, her teeth gritted.

Roy paused for a second, finding the words hard to get out. "Would you mind if I had a word alone with you before you leave?"

"I'm sorry sir, but it's late and I don't want to keep –" Riza was cut off by Gracia who gave her a suggestive look. "He wants to talk _alone_." She whispered, raising her eyebrow.

Riza, her jaw set defiantly, pulled up a chair next to Mustang's bed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Five minutes." She said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice.

Gracia smiled and closed the door as she left; the sound the latch made against the wood was almost deafening in the sudden silence.


	18. A Christmas Present

_**Author's Notes:** Thanks everybody for being so very patient with me! I didn't get any death threats or angry messages, so I guess you held up alright! I'll save the rest of my blabbering for the end though. But first; A big thank you to my sweet beta reader Yoky! –air glomp- This story would be nothing without your mad skills!_

-oo00oo-

Mustang began to panic. What could he say? Riza would kill him if he didn't have a good reason for making her stay. He'd only asked her in an attempt to get the old Riza back, to try and close the gap that had settled between them. But something like that couldn't be put into words easily at the best of times, and at the moment his mind was clouded with painkillers forced down his throat by hospital staff.

"I – ah…" He glanced up at Riza, who sat with perfect posture, looking ahead at the glittering Christmas tree. Even in the bleak hospital lighting the ornaments sparkled, catching the dim light and reflecting it on the whitewashed ceiling and beige walls.

Riza shifted in her chair and checked her watch. "Four minutes and thirty seconds, sir." She said, sounding as if it was taking every once of her strength not to shoot something.

"I just wanted to…say thanks." Mustang said meekly. The words sounded more pathetic out loud then they did in his head.

"You're welcome." Riza looked like she didn't mean it one bit. "If that's all, sir?" She began to stand, seeming relieved that she could leave.

"No." Mustang's abruptness startled even himself. Riza looked slightly taken aback, but settled again in her chair. "Yes?" She asked curtly, beginning to examine the cuff of her sleeve

Mustang cleared his throat, half regretting speaking up at all. He was desperate to a start a conversation, anything to get her talking, so that he could at least _try_ and get things back to normal, now matter how much he doubted that it could be done.

"…About what happened tonight Hawkeye," It was the only subject that came to mind, he was too tired to come up with anything else.

"Good, I've been meaning to talk to you about that." Riza said, with the hint of an anxious tone to her voice.

Mustang felt a lurch of excitement. Finally Hawkeye was going to say something, something she obviously had been waiting all night to bring up.

Riza crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look. "What exactly were you doing sleeping in the graveyard on Christmas Eve? It looks a little suicidal, if you'll allow me to be so blunt."

Her words left Roy speechless. What exactly had he been hoping for? Confessions of undying love? Whatever it was, it hadn't been what she'd said. "I just…fell asleep." He muttered, as if that explained it.

"That was very foolish of you, sir. Anything could have happened. Don't the attacks on state alchemists worry you? You could have been kil-"

Before Hawkeye could finish her lecture, the door swung open and a platinum blond nurse in a uniform two sizes too small stepped in. She smiled widely, revealing perfect white teeth framed by large ruby red lips. Completely ignoring Riza, the woman slinked past her and settled on the edge of Mustang's bed.

"You need some medicine on that of adorable face of yours, colonel; it got a little frozen out there." She giggled in a playful voice, squirting a thick blob of cream from a small tube onto her finger tip.

Mustang's eyes swept over the woman's figure instinctively before he caught himself and looked away. She was certainly attractive, but he was too distracted by Riza to pay very much notice. The nurse picked up on his inattention and responded by scooting a little closer next to him. She leaned in so close to Mustang that they were much less then a foot apart, and her face was just inches from his. He looked down his nose cross-eyed at her as she began to massage the cream in, but jerked back quickly as one of her long red fingernails narrowly avoided his eye.

"You like my manicure?" She twittered gleefully, wiggling her fingers with a flourish.

"You could put an eye out." Mustang smirked. "Then all your good looks would go to waste…"

The nurse giggled with delight. "We wouldn't want _that_. I'll just be very, very careful…" She raised her hand, but Roy caught her wrist and lowered her arm gently back to her side. "No, don't trouble yourself with this, why don't you come back a little later…?" He tilted his head to the side to indicate Riza, who had begun polishing her handgun in her lap. "Let her finish up with this stuff."

The nurse smiled again. "I'll be back soon." She said with a wide grin, tossing the topical medicine at Riza carelessly on her way out the door.

Hawkeye caught the tube and looked questioningly at Roy, who forced what he hoped was a sheepish smile. At last he had her alone, he could try to talk to her again – even if he still wasn't sure what he wanted to say or how he could say it.

Wordlessly, Riza leaned in and began rubbing the cream onto his nose with more force then was necessary, keeping her eyes adverted from his.

"Look, lieutenant," Roy began, his throat suddenly drying up.

Riza's eyes darted up instinctively before she looked down again. She nodded once to acknowledge that she heard him.

"There's something that I've wanted to say to your for a very long time, and tonight I realized that if I don't say it soon, then I might never be able to."

She looked up again, meeting his gaze and holding it. "What is it, sir?" She asked, pausing in the middle of working the cream onto his left cheek.

Mustang took a minute to survey her, unsure of what he was about to do. She'd be mad - she'd probably shoot him and then chew him out for not finishing his paper work as he lay bleeding to death_. But it will be worth it._ He decided, and before he could change his mind again, he closed the distance between them and pulled Riza into a kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her warm, sweet smelling body close to his, taking in the soft scent of strawberries and the light flavor of vanilla on her lips. It was more wonderful then he had ever imagined it to be, more perfect and satisfying then any kiss before.

From somewhere far off came a shrill wolf whistle. Mustang snapped back to reality and looked over Riza's shoulder to see Jean Havoc leaning casually on the door frame, a wide grin on his face. "Kissing colonels. Oo-la-la." He snickered, stepping into the room. "Nice one chief! I was wondering if you two would ever hook up!"

Riza whipped her head around so quickly that her hair clip collided with Mustang's nose.

Roy ignored the shooting pain and began mentally preparing himself for the fireworks that were undoubtedly about to follow. Havoc would be lucky if he only got off with a round of bullets in the foot.

Riza stood calmly and tugged at the hem of her jacket to straighten it. "I'll be leaving now sir, Gracia is waiting." The hint of a smile danced in her eyes, though her lips were as straight and thin as ever. "I'll see you tomorrow for Christmas dinner." She nodded a goodbye to Havoc and turned out the door. The sound of her heavy boots on the tile floor echoed as she walked away down the hall, until they at last faded into nothing.

"Did you want something, lieutenant? Or did you just drop in to enforce the fraternization laws?" Roy asked dryly. Half of him was singing a victory song for at last kissing his first lieutenant. The other half had begun plotting violent ways for Jean Havoc to suffer a long and painful death.

Havoc snorted and took up Riza's chair, sitting on it backwards so that his chest rested where his back normally would have. "Nah, I was on my way to a _date_ and decided to stop by." He said smugly, putting extra emphasis on the word 'date'.

Mustang wasn't really listening, the kiss had begun to reply in his head and he had lost himself in it. He could almost feel Riza's arms around him again and the smell of strawberries still lingered in the air, a sweet escape from the harsh aroma of the hospital disinfectants and cleaners.

"-and so I was thinking Susie and I would probably go back to her apartment and -" Havoc droned on, blissfully unaware that his audience of one wasn't paying him any attention.

Mustang smiled faintly. Maybe his dream hadn't been a compete waste - even if it was unrealistic. The guilt of Ishbal and the death of Hughes still lingered, he knew it always would. But now, with Riza; the shadows of his past might be a little more bearable.

"Are you going to eat those cookies?" Havoc had stopped bragging about his plans for the evening and was pointing to a plate of frosted sugar cookies that Gracia had left on the bedside table.

Roy glanced over and shrugged. Havoc picked up the plate and a piece of paper fluttered to the tiled floor. He set the plate down again and leaned over to pick it up. Mustang craned his neck to see as Havoc straightened up again to examine his find.

"You shouldn't leave your girly pictures lying around where Hawkeye can find them." Havoc scolded teasingly, smirking at the photograph.

Mustang groaned and snatched it from him. It took him a minute to register who the occupants of the picture were. As he'd suspected, Havoc had been joking about the nature of the image. Three people stood at the foot of a staircase that had been decorated in garlands. Gracia Hughes held a beaming Elicia in her arms, and in the back…

Roy held the picture closer to get a better look. The person standing slightly behind Gracia was unmistakably himself, dressed in street clothes that weren't his own and half smiling.

He blinked his eyes several times to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. "Havoc, look at that and tell me what you see." He asked blankly, handing the picture to him.

Havoc took it and looked at it again. "It's you and Mrs. Hughes and her kid." Shrugging, he handed it back.

Mustang looked down once more. It wasn't possible, it didn't make any sense – it even went against the laws of science – and yet there it was, he was holding it in his hands. He felt a chill run up his spine. Maybe it was best not to question it.

Havoc took a cookie from the plate and bit into it. "Where'b it comeb fromb?" He asked with his mouth full, sending crumbs flying down his uniform front.

"It's just…" Roy paused for a minute before answering. He thought he had an idea where the picture had come from, as crazy and impossible as it was. "…A Christmas present." He finished, feeling himself smile. "A Christmas present from an old friend."

_The. End. _

-oo00oo-

_**A farewell rant from the author:**_

_I hope everybody is at least satisfied with the end of the story. If you're more then satisfied then that's just an added bonus, and if you're not satisfied at all - then take it up with my publisher. (a.k.a. my alter ego and invisible goth twin Shaina.)) _

_I'd like to add the following to my disclaimer:_

_Riza's strawberry perfume was –cough- borrowed from a oneshot by __**Pickles The Great**__. Hope you don't mind Pickles, I added it in on a whim and I ended up keeping it because it just seemed to fit so well! Havoc's moment wrecking line about 'kissing colonels' I stole and altered from the movie 'Just Visiting'. It probably seemed random, but that's because it was yet another inside joke with myself.  
Anyway; Hope you've enjoyed this fan fiction! I'm so very grateful for everyone who reviewed or added it to their lists or just plain old read it! Thanks guys!! –airs hugs- See you around I hope!_

_**-Naideana**_

_PS. Wait! Don't go yet! If you were gonna write a final review, could you tell me what your favorite chapter was and why? Just for fun? And then mention if there was anything that you think I could improve on? (not like rewriting this story, just in general) If you could it'd be great, but you certainly don't have to! _


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